Where The Lonely Ones Roam
by morallygreydesi
Summary: "He hasn't got any leverage on us when we've been clean all along. But don't pretend you don't miss it. You want in." Brian didn't say anything. In that moment, he hated Dom. Not for bringing the news to him, but because he was exactly right. Post-Furious 7. Rated for language, violence, and non-graphic sexual content in later chapters.
1. Keep My Secrets

**Hey, so this idea struck me yesterday and I haven't been let go of it. I'm surprised it grew so vividly when I initially just wanted a one** **shot**** but I knew it wouldn't be enough. So, I'm going to take a huge leap of faith and jump head first into this fandom with a multi chapter. Since, I haven't written these characters before I sincerely hope I don't screw them up too much. And I really, really hope you guys enjoy the characters I introduce since this is set well into the future. Hopefully, I'll live up to it 3**

**So, sit back, relax, and don't hate me for this cliche opening line. This is just the start.**

**Love, Brooke xx**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters. I own all OCs, characterization of Jack O'Conner and Vince's son, Nico. I also own intellectual property. **

* * *

"Ah, shit," came the muffled sound from under the popped hood of the car sitting near the garage doors. It was mixed with the strained sounds of radio static coming from the back room where Nico was, no doubt, trying to find an acceptable station to play music for their long afternoon. It was a futile task, mainly because Nico was picky, and because it was a Thursday afternoon, which meant very little variety outside of top 100s.

Brian O'Conner groaned, cursing under his breath again. He'd changed his shirt just twenty minutes ago and he'd already got grease on this one. He was starting to wonder if there was anything left in his wardrobe that didn't look like it was greasy rags stitched together. For a multi millionaire, he sure did look like a mess.

"Fuck this," he said, shaking his head and stepping back from the car. He wiped his fingers on his shirt, knowing it was a lost cause. He unbuttoned it and tossed it aside, hissing as the hot, sticky air hit his bronzed, scarred skin. His white tank was already sticking to him. Walking to the sink in the corner, he examined his exhausted expression in the mirror on the wall. He looked little like the bright, naive twenty three year old who'd come to California, eager to earn himself a Detective badge. Countless car wrecks, reckless driving, gunfire, and changed locations had left him with a scar riddled body, odd tan lines, and a constantly paranoid brain. He washed his hands, wincing at his expression as he hummed idly under his breath. Man, Mia was going to have a field day teasing him. He narrowed his eyes at the three new grey hairs that had decided to make an appearance amidst the dirty blonde. Yeah, long gone were the days when he thought he'd be young forever. Still, he didn't mind trading it all in for the one thing that he saw in his reflection that had rarely been there before. A sparkle in those blue eyes. Not just a sparkle from an adrenaline rush, or from excitement. Just genuine happiness and content that was always there, despite everything.

"Hey, Nico!" he called out. "Quit messing with that. Take lunch. Come on."

He heard the radio static fade into silence before the office door cracked open and his nephew walked out. Well, he wasn't his nephew technically. He wasn't related to him, even by law. It's not like Dom had adopted him or anything. Nico had been an adult when his mother died. It was more like Nico had adopted them, heading straight for California for the only family he had left after his mum was shot point blank, right in the middle of the fruit market. Nico had been devastated, but not at all surprised. He'd made peace with the fact that Vince had made a lot of enemies, and they were bound to extract debts on his leftover family.

When he'd first shown up at Dom's doorstep during one of the Sunday brunches, Brian had panicked. After spending their initial years in the DR, they'd decided to move back to California for simply two reasons. First, because they knew their enemies wouldn't think to search so close to their home. They'd expect them to get as far away from LA as possible, instead of moving only a few minutes away. Second, because, well, they'd missed home. When they'd packed up and moved to Anaheim, it had been strictly agreed that everyone was going to stay out of any shady business and not attract attention to themselves.

Although the Orange County crew knew them well enough, staying out of their old world afforded them anonymity without any lack of backup, in case anyone came sniffing around. Even when Dom had reassured Brian that it had been his invitation that Nico had followed, Brian had been paranoid for weeks. Comfort was not a luxury he could afford. Somehow, every time they got comfortable, well, shit happened.

"I'm going to break that radio," Nico's voice came, breaking Brian out of his reverie. The aggressive tone in the boy's voice made him sound so much like Vince that, for a second, Brain tensed. But he also knew that Nico was probably one of the kindest souls on the planet. His bark was louder than any bite. Actually, he didn't even bite.

"And I'm going to take it out of your paycheck if you touch that thing," Brian joked, smacking him upside the head. The two of them ambled over to where there was a small table and foldable chair set up, a huge table fan whirring away. The blast of wind was welcome. It was mid July and temperatures were soaring. It was one of the hottest summers in a long time.

The two of them sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds being unwrapping saran and cracking open of cans. The two of them split a beer, touching their Fosters cans in a silent cheers. Nico liked taking full advantage of his recently reached legal age. It would amuse them to no end when Dom would come back and find the cans, and grumble something about finding anything other than Corona in his garage. Then, Brian would do the usual comeback of how it was his garage too. Then, Nico would make an offhand comment about Dom having shitty taste in beer.

It was a routine they all had pat down. So pat down that Brian's hand was already moving to his pocket a moment before it actually started ringing.

"What's up?" he asked, knowing exactly who was on the other end.

"Don't even ask," came a tired voice and he sighed sadly. He hated hearing her sound so exhausted, no matter how proud he was of her work.

"Long day?"

"The longest. Drunk teenagers crashed their car on the highway. It led to a pile up. Two survivors out of nine, and they don't look they're going to make it either. It's been hell," Mia said, and Brian knew it would be a longer night. Even though she put her heart into her work, she hated it when circumstances were out of their hands. She mourned for every death that she saw. She'd seen enough car crashes involving teenagers, right from when she'd been an intern. Now, as a senior nurse, she still maintained that they were glad their kids were out of the racing scene. _God, _Brian thought, not for the first time. _We were such stupid kids. _They'd done their part in sharing their love for cars with their kids, but they were glad this was behind them. They'd raised them to be responsible drivers.

"I'll have the nice wine ready when your shift ends," he replied to his wife, and he could almost see the sad smile on her face.

"Thanks. I should go. Just wanted to hear your voice. I'll see you later at home."

"Love you," he replied, aiming a kick at Nico who was making a gagging noise.

"You too. And, don't forget, you're making dinner today. I'm just not up to it."

"So, we're ordering pizza then?" he chuckled. He could barely boil water.

"Yeah, I guess."

She hung up after that, and Brian leaned back, putting a hand on his stomach. He felt full but the conversation about the dead teens had put him in a sour mood. Even tinkering with a car could do little to fix it. Given how many deaths they'd all caused in their lifetime, it surprised him how he hadn't grown desensitized to it.

"Hey," Nico spoke up. "Tio Dom will be here in ten. You head on home."

"You sure?" he asked, knowing that the kid had picked up on the mood.

"Yeah, get out of here."

Brian nodded thankfully and grabbed his dirty shirts. Tossing them into the backseat, he got into his car and pulled out of the garage. He hummed in relief at the thrum of the car under his hands. He denied it but Mia swore he'd been on the verge of tears when the kids had gotten their own car and they didn't need the minivan. Brian had happily exchanged that useless vehicle for a Supra in a heartbeat. He loved his children but he'd quickly gotten bored of driving a car that could fit booster seats.

He was four blocks from home when his cellphone rang again. He frowned. He didn't think he had any engagements left today. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID, where Gisele's name flashed.

"Hey, what's up?" he answered. "I thought you were at your friend's?"

"I am," she replied. "But Jack bailed on me. I need a ride home. Can you pick me up?"

"Uh, sure," he said. "Which friend is this again?"

She sighed, and then spoke up."

"Lauren."

He remained silent, knowing she'd pick up on his cluelessness.

"The blonde one who lives on Lincoln."

"Right," he said, immediately picturing the house. "Give me ten."

Ten minutes later, he pulled up outside the white colored house and honked twice. The front door opened a minute later and two teenagers stepped out. They hugged and the blonde one – Lauren – waved at him.

"Hi, Mr. O'Conner!" she called out.

Smiling in a friendly manner, he rolled down the window and waved back at her. Gisele waved goodbye to her friend and jogged up the driveway, throwing her overnight bag into the backseat. Getting into the front, she promptly put on her seatbelt as they pulled out.

"Nice sleepover?"

"Lauren bullied me into watching horror movies," she groaned, sinking into her seat. "I'm going to have nightmares for weeks."

"You're so paranoid," he grinned, poking his daughter's arm. She gave him a look.

"You know, if you just let us get you a car you wouldn't need to rely on your brother for a ride," he reminded her. She groaned.

"Not this again. I don't _need _a car. Everyone I know lives close enough, and Jack doesn't mind sharing the Prius. It's a waste of money."

Now, it was his turn to give her a look. Although the kids in this family had very sketchy ideas of how their parents had hoards of money – mostly from dodging questions and awkward changes in topic – they were aware of how rich they were. Buying a car for Gisele would barely be scratching the surface, let alone putting a dent.

"You want to spend money on me? Save it for the Ivy League I'll get into," she added.

"I have two years to panic about that. For now, you're stuck with us." He gave her a half hearted smile. He loved how driven she was, aiming high and getting glorious grades. She was an all rounder. Mia and Brian had an entire trophy case of pride for her, all kinds of medals from top grades and extra curricular activities. But it still stung to think about how his kids were going to leave soon.

"What's for dinner today?" she asked, as they pulled into their own driveway.

"We're ordering in," he said, getting out of the car. Gisele cringed as she got out.

"Bad day in the trauma ward?" she asked, referring to Mia.

"Don't even get me started."

But Gisele was already busy on her phone.

"Hey," Brian asked, after he'd showered and settled in front of the television. Gisele was sitting at the breakfast counter, watching some kind of YouTube video. She paused and turned.

"Where _did_ your brother go? Why wasn't he around to pick you up?"

She shrugged.

"I didn't ask. He just said he was meeting up with some friends."

Brian narrowed his eyes at her. He was rather unfortunate – his expert lying gene had passed onto both his kids. It had been a terror when Jack had been younger, and he was just lucky Gisele wasn't someone who had a lot to lie about. They were good. But not good enough to trump someone who'd known them their whole lives.

"Liar," he accused, muting the TV. "Does he have a secret girlfriend or something?"

She froze at that, her mouth shaped like an 'O'. It was a bit amusing. She looked so much like Mia in the moment – her dark hair slightly frizzy from the heat, her dark eyes wide in shock, her brown skin flushed from being caught in a lie.

"He – asked me not to say anything. Please don't tell him you know something. Or Mom. It's not my story to tell. Please," she begged.

Brian sighed.

"You don't get to ask me to keep secrets from your mom. I won't ask him, but it's bothering me why he can't just tell us. We don't really have a problem with him dating. He's not seeing a convict, is he?" he joked.

Gisele rolled her eyes.

"No, I don't know why he wants to keep it quiet. But he does. So, please, don't ask."

"I won't, I told you. But if he doesn't say anything in the next few weeks, I will. He shouldn't have to keep that a secret from us."

Gisele cringed. Brian simply turned back to the TV, more bothered by the lie than he let show on his face.

* * *

The fact that his son was lying to him about some girl, combined with the sour mood from his wife's day, and the heat, had left Brian in a rotten state by the time dinner came around. Even Mia didn't try cheering him up, her own sad mood stopping her from attempting. Gisele remained awfully quiet the whole time the three of them sat in the den, the TV playing some rerun of some crime show. He changed the channel when he saw the FBI jackets, the costumes hitting too close. He flipped to the news.

The doorbell rang and Gisele looked up.

"It can't be here that fast," she said, referring to the pizza she'd ordered only ten minutes ago. Getting up, she went and opened the door. She stood stunned for a second before she smiled widely, thankful for something to lighten the mood.

"Uncle Dom!" she grinned, throwing her arms around his waist. She wasn't exactly tall enough to hug him around the shoulders, and he laughed, hugging her back.

"Hey, kid. Your parents home?" he asked. Gisele nodded, greeting Nico and her Aunt Letty in a similar manner. The last person to enter the house was her youngest cousin. Hanley wasn't exactly her only cousin – Gisele knew her dad had an estranged sister somewhere who had kids. They'd probably met once or twice at her parents' wedding, and she'd been so young back then that she didn't really remember them. For all intents and purposes, Hanley and Nico were her only cousins. She knew little of her paternal family, and she knew that's exactly how her dad wanted it.

"Hey Gigi," the twelve year old girl in question said. Gisele high fived her. Hanley was the only one allowed to call her that, and that was only because it took the kid forever to learn the pronunciation when she was younger.

"Come on," she said, putting an arm around her cousin and led her to the den. Brian and Mia were standing, both appearing to be much happier at the surprise visit.

"Brian, got a beer?" Dom asked, tilting his head in the direction of the kitchen. Gisele watched with curiosity as Brian nodded, getting up and following the older man out of the room. She would never get over all the silent conversations this family was capable of. She wondered what they had to talk about.

"Hey," she heard, and turned to watch her aunt put an arm around her mother. Mia leaned into Letty, resting her head on her sister in law's shoulder. Letty didn't say any words of comfort, already sensing the work stress she must be under. Nico and Hanley stood awkwardly in the doorway, not knowing what to say or do.

"Come on," Gisele told them. "Let's go to my room. My friend, Lauren, let me borrow some DVDs. We'll watch a movie."

The two of them looked grateful, happily following her up the stairs.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Dom leaned against the island with his arms crossed. Brian was slow in getting out the chilled Corona bottle, searching for the bottle opener. He already knew from Dom's stance that he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. He felt like childishly covering his ears and running away. His day couldn't exactly get worse. But he couldn't _not _know either. When he couldn't waste any more time, he passed the bottle to Dom and sighed.

"What is it?"

"Hobbs," Dom said, not bothering to sugarcoat or build up the talk. Brian closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. This could _not _be happening. They had been out of this nonsense for sixteen years. They'd taken an oath to stay out of it when Jack was born, and then broken it twice. After Gisele came into the world, Brian had backed out and meant every word. And, frankly, while Dom had some trouble staying out of it, he'd been diligent in keeping his promise after Hanley had been born. Brian and Dom both knew that even when they were at their weakest and tempted, they only had to remember the people they'd named their kids after to get a harsh reality check.

"Dom. You remember what we swore. I'm not flying around the world and leaving my family behind. Again," Brian whispered, worried that one of the kids would overhear.

"That's the problem. It's _not _another country's problem. It's not even another state's problem. It's in L.A. It's too close to home."

"What is too close to home?" Brian asked, standing up straighter.

"Ivankov."

Brian shook his head, his fist clenching and unclenching.

"Fuck," he allowed himself to swear. That was a name he didn't want anything to do with.

Alexei Ivankov was someone he'd known even before he'd gone undercover in L.A. Head of a small splinter cell in the Russian mob, Ivankov had started off as a small time drug dealer near San Diego. He'd caused some local problems, but the FBI had assigned a small team to work with SDPD for it back then. Nobody was too worried. San Diego was too close to Braga's territory, even on this side of the border. They knew that the possibility of a mob war was slim to none. Ivankov had been too unimportant to the Russians, and Braga wasn't a match for him.

But after Braga had been taken out, and so had the Shaw brothers, the sixteen years since then had let Ivankov spread his roots. He'd moved on from being a drug dealer to full on smuggling, and arms dealing. He was making his way north across the state, expanding his territory. He'd already established himself well in L.A, and Brian knew all too well what illegal arms trade in this region would do to the area where they lived. It wouldn't be long before someone figured out _who _they were and tried to stir something up. What was worse was having their kids thrown into the mixture.

"What are you saying Dom? That we do the whole routine again? Think about what you're saying. It's been too long. Everyone has moved on. We're not young anymore. We've got teenage kids. We're scattered. And even if we do it, then what? Someone dies again? We have to move again? We can't do that to the kids. We've got it good. Let's just –"

"Stay out of it? I really hope that's how your sentence was going to end," Mia interrupted, looking angry as she walked up to them. Her face showed that Letty had already told her what was going on.

"Yeah, it was," Brian reassured her, a little offended that she suspected he'd say anything else.

"We _can't _do this, Dom," Letty said. So that's why they'd come over. Letty wanted them to help her convince Dom to stay out of it.

"You think Ivankov won't hesitate to come to Anaheim? You know what that's going to do? To our garage?" he asked, turning to Brian. "To the kids? You think any of their classmates won't get roped into this shit? How old were we when we messed with the wrong people, Brian? You think they won't?"

"They won't!" Mia stressed. "We raised them to not get into this stuff. We raised them to stay out of it."

"And what if Ivankov figures out who they are? Then what? We may have never messed with the Russians before but that doesn't mean they don't know about us. They had their own connections. You think they don't know who fucked with Shaw? Or Braga?"

"I think you're forgetting what _undercover _work means," Brian hissed. "The whole point of moving back here was that we didn't have to worry about that."

"You would know," Dom snapped.

"Hey!" Mia snapped back. "Don't go there."

Dom scoffed, running a hand across his forehead.

"Look," he held his hand up, as if he was trying to talk to children. "We're not unknown in these parts, even if we've stayed out of the game. People talk. You think they don't notice our homes or the kind of money we spend? Or that no cops knock on our doors? That an ex-agent is amongst us? They _know _we're trouble, and they're either too scared to do anything or they've been waiting us out."

"And getting back into it is doing exactly what they want!" Brian replied, his voice heated. "What did Hobbs tell you? Why now? What does he want us to do?"

"Apparently Ivankov's been using the road networks for his arms dealing. But they've got intel that the kind of weapons they're about to make available are a whole new level. We're talking war-level equipment – on the fucking streets. In the wrong hands, we could be looking at riots every other week. Those things are going to be bad on the street."

The other three didn't say anything. Mia just shook her head and walked out, shrugging away when Letty tried to stop her. Brian just rested his elbows on the counter, his head in his hands.

"Fuck," he groaned. "Hobbs hasn't given us a choice, has he?"

"He has. He hasn't got any leverage on us when we've been clean all along. But don't pretend you don't miss it. You _want _in."

Brian didn't say anything. In that moment, he hated Dom. Not for bringing the news to him, but because he was exactly right.

* * *

Gisele wasn't concentrating on the movie, staring anxiously at her phone the whole time. She'd texted Jack at least three times by now and he hadn't replied. Every message said the same thing: _Don't come home. Need to talk. Meet me in Trader Joe's parking lot when you're near. _

Her phone buzzed and she jumped, looking at her brother's message : _Come. I'm waiting. _

She jumped up from the bed, and Nico threw her a look like he knew exactly what was up. Well, he did, but he knew better than to spill any secrets. He wasn't one to cause trouble in someone else's family.

"Occupy her," Gisele mouthed, pointed at Hanley. Nico nodded.

"I got this," he mouthed back. "Go."

"I'm going down. This is boring," Gisele announced, out loud. Hanley, from her spot on the floor, merely waved her off.

Gisele jogged down the stairs, peering into the kitchen. She saw that it was empty and ran to the fridge. The carton of Greek yogurt was still one fourth full but she took it out. She silently asked for forgiveness for being wasteful before she took a spoon and emptied the contents in the sink. Running water over it, she threw the carton in the trash and loudly said, "Oh, no. We're out of yogurt."

"What?" Mia called out from the den. Gisele grabbed her keys from the counter before going to the den. Her parents and aunt and uncle sat in silence, watching TV. All of them looked solemn, but she had other things on her mind to worry about it.

"We're out of yogurt. I'm going to go buy some."

"Why?" Brian frowned. "Just put it on the list. We don't need it tonight."

"No, tonight is smoothie night," Gisele said, shrugging. Her parents sighed. They had given up questioning her strict dietary quirks a long time back. "Besides, Trader Joe's is, like, a two minute walk. I'll come back in ten."

She waved bye and then practically ran down to the shop. When she spotted the silver Prius in the lot, she climbed into the passenger seat. Her brother was leaning back with his eyes closed, but he whispered a greeting.

"Please, please, tell me you didn't spend the day in Palm Springs," Gisele whispered. Jack opened his eyes, turning his icy gaze to her. She had long grown immune to the unnerving feeling. Even when he was being warm, the blue color prevented it from shining through.

"What do you think?" he replied. She groaned.

"Look. Dad knows I'm covering for you. He asked today."

Jack quickly sat up, all laziness vanishing and replaced with a mix of anger and fear.

"Please tell me you didn't open your mouth."

"What do you think I am? An idiot? No, I didn't say anything. He thinks you have a secret girlfriend so I just acted guilty and played along. So, for now, you have a girlfriend."

"Christ, Gisele!" he said angrily. "Couldn't you have said anything else?"

"And have him think even I'm lying? No, thanks. Look, he promised he won't ask any questions but he's upset you're lying about dating someone. He said if you don't say anything in a couple of weeks, he'll confront you. I've only bought you that window, so come up with an excuse."

"Oh, this is so convenient," he slammed his hands on the steering. "How upset did he sound?"

"He said you shouldn't have to lie about dating and he's worried if it's someone who is bad news."

Jack snorted. "Ironic."

"Shut up," Gisele said in an icy tone. "We were clear about that one. I keep your secret, you keep mine."

"I know that," Jack snapped. "Trust me that's the only reason I'm even keeping quiet about this shit."

"Well maybe you shouldn't! What you're doing is illegal. Maybe you shouldn't be doing it all."

"You don't get to lecture me about legality when what you're doing is illegal too."

"Don't be an ass. What you're doing is _dangerous_. You could _die. _It's street racing! What you're doing could get you killed!"

"And what you're doing is equally bad. Danny isn't good news, Gisele."

"We're not having this conversation again. Look, I only called you here to give you a heads up. Either you get better at excuses, or you find yourself a girlfriend to bring home."

"Fine. But for now, we still have our deal. You keep my secret."

"And you keep mine."


	2. Looming on the Horizon

**I'm so thrilled that people are actually subscribing and looking forward to this. For that reason alone, this chapter became a little longer. I hope you guys like where this is going, and while I'm still setting the stage, don't worry. The action that we all love about FnF will be coming soon!**

**Please leave reviews/comments and let me know what you guys think! Your love and criticism is what pushes me to keep writing and improving my work!**

**Love, Brooke xx**

* * *

Brian found Mia in the laundry room long after the kids had gone to bed, and their guests had left. He'd avoided confrontation with her while Gi – he'd always call her that even as she stomped her foot and demanded to be called 'Gisele' – helped do the dishes and Jack finally showed up with groceries. Apparently their kids had run into each other at the store and Gisele had pushed the shopping onto her brother. He'd even avoided her as she'd showered and changed, and they'd said goodnight to the kids. But now, amidst the silence, the air hung heavy, begging to be inhaled and spat out with words.

Mia was haphazardly throwing clothes in the washer, fumbling with the dials, when he walked up next to her. He didn't say anything as he started folding the warm clothes from the previous batch. When the machine finally started whirring, and she moved to leave, he gently grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Brian –" she started but he shook his head.

"We have to talk about it," he whispered.

"There's nothing to talk about," she said, turning to him and moving out of his grasp. He felt a cold weight settle on his chest when he heard how close her voice was to breaking. He'd _promised _himself, her, that he'd never let her sound like that again. Not if it was in his hands to stop it. Yet, here he stood, being the cause of all that pain she couldn't swallow.

"There is. Come on. I want to know what you're thinking."

"You want to know what I'm thinking?" she said, crossing her arms, eyes narrowed. "I'm thinking of how tomorrow is going to be a long shift because they brought in two more patients tonight. I'm thinking of how Gi might need a vacation to get away from all this extra-curricular summer stuff she's pulled on herself. I'm thinking of how we're almost out of washing powder and we should've put that on the list. I'm thinking of what's going on with Jack and why he's been so distant lately. I'm thinking of what we're going to eat this Sunday barbecue. I'm thinking of how tired I am right now and I want to go to bed."

"Mia –"

"No, no, you don't interrupt me. I'm thinking of all these things because I'm a nurse, and I'm a mom, and I need to think of all of it because nobody else will. I have my plate full. I am up to here with all this work. And now, I don't have it in me to even _begin _comprehending how my brother could consider any of this, and how he thought he could drag us into it."

"Mia –" he tried again but she held a hand up. He shut up immediately, knowing she had to get it all out or she never would. He supposed it was a Torreto thing.

"We have tried so damn hard in the past nineteen years. No, scratch that. I have been trying this for much longer than you have. I'm the one who had to think of these things while Dom and Letty were in the DR doing God knows what, and you were busy playing FBI agent. I had to think of all this. I had to make the home you guys could turn to when you had nowhere to go. I was the one left behind while everyone scattered. Who do you think was left to give Jesse a funeral? Who do you think did Letty's funeral? Who do you think was the one who had to sit at home, watching agents crawl across her home and watch them treat it like it was a piece of evidence to be thrown in the locker? The one who had to be treated like bait? And when we were free falling across the world, I'm the one who had to think of what kind of home I was avoiding bringing our son into. We tried so hard to give him that life, and I didn't say a damn thing when it came to Owen Shaw because it was Letty. We had to bring her home. There was no option. And I didn't say anything when it came to his brother because it came down to family again, and we were all on his twisted hit list. I said nothing. But when you and Dom raced that last time, you went down a different road for a reason. You came back to me. To us. And you said you'd never leave again. I can't do it anymore, Brian. I can't do the whole routine of sitting home and wondering if I'm suddenly going to lose a brother. I can't sit and wonder if - if – my children are fatherless – if I'm a widow – I can't – I can't – " she broke off, shaking her head rapidly. She had tears streaming down her cheeks and Brian whispered her name, pulling her into his arms.

She was shaking hard and he held her tight, even as she tried to hit his chest over and over. She wasn't even trying to stop crying anymore. Mia was full on sobbing against him and he buried his head in her neck, tightening his hold on her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry we've put you through that. You don't deserve that. I'm sorry."

"But?" she said, pulling away from him. Her eyes were rimmed red, and puffy, and as the weight of all her sadness etched itself on her face, Brian realized how she really looked like she'd been put through the ringer for decades.

"But what?"

"I know there was a but at the end of that sentence. This better not be about those bullets again."

"What bullets?"

"Those bullets you miss hearing."

"I should've never told you that," he groaned, pressing his palms to his face. "Mia, that was a long time ago."

"But you're still standing here, trying to convince me. What is it Brian? Is this not enough for you? Are our lives not enough for you?"

He ran his fingers through his hair, turning his back to her for a second. He didn't want her to see it but he was a little frustrated, the emotion warring to be shown but being suppressed by his conscious need to not upset her.

"Look around you, Mia," he said, turning back to her. "Does it look like I've missed out on anything? I'm fine here, with you, and our kids. This is perfection."

"Then what's your damage? Are you so messed up that you need to be in the thick of things for your life to be normal? We promised, for their sake, for our sake, that we were opening a new chapter. We can't keep revisiting the past and dragging it back in."

"What do you want me to do, Mia?" he asked, his voice raising a little. "Do you want me to let Dom walk into that alone? Do you want me to sit at home and wonder what the hell is happening with the crime scene where we live? What do you want me to do? I thought you said you felt safer with Dom and I out there, watching each others' backs."

"That was _before,_" she snapped. "Before any of this. We were young then, Brian. I had Elena with me. Who do I have now? Do you know what's going to happen? You and Dom and Letty are going to go in guns blazing, and I'm going to have Nico, and Jack, and Gi, and Hanley wondering where the hell everyone went. I'm going to have to keep their roofs over their heads. I'm going to have to answer questions I can't silence with a bottle of milk anymore."

"You don't know Ivankov, Mia," Brian shook his head. "I've seen this guy's MO. He's bad news. We don't want that kind of shit around here."

"And then what, Brian? You take him down, and then we have to move again because his friends come looking for us? Or he has some sibling on a vengeance fantasy?" Mia demanded, pushing a finger to his chest. "Then what? It's been years since you guys have done this. You don't have anything to be fighting for anymore. Not our lives, not Letty's, not anybody else in our family. So, then, what is it? Is that it? Do you just miss it?" she asked.

"Yes!" he spat out. "Yes, I miss it. I miss it more than anything in the world, Mia."

She recoiled, as if he'd slapped her, and he closed his eyes, realizing that she would've heard the words differently than what he'd been hearing. Her lower lip was trembling and he reached out. She took a step back and turned to go back into the kitchen. He followed and grabbed her hand, pulling her back. She didn't say anything as he pulled her close, her back resting against his chest. She was shaking again.

"I didn't mean it like that. I promise, I didn't mean it like that," he mumbled.

"I don't believe your promises anymore," she whispered. He closed his eyes and shook his head, a lump in his throat. The words cut through him. There was nothing in the world more important to him than having his wife's trust. Trust had always been a rocky road for them, and it had been his fault their entire lives had started with his lies. Even now, twenty-six years after he'd met her, it still was something he didn't take for granted. To hear her say those words broke him.

"Mia," he said, turning her to look at him. He heard her suck in a breath as she looked into his eyes and, no doubt, so them sparkling a little. "Listen to me. Believe me when I tell you that I love you. I love you, I love Jack, and I love Gisele. You three are my world, and always will be. There is nothing more important to me than you three. But I need to do this, for me. I love our lives. And if this hadn't come around, I wouldn't have gone looking for it either. But it's here, and I want to take up the offer because I miss the adrenaline. I miss the rush. I miss bringing in the enemy. You have to believe me. I love our lives and I love being a mechanic. But there is a part of me that never stopped loving the speed, and the chase, and being a cop. Let me do this, please."

"That's what worries me, Brian," she whispered, resting her head on his chest and finally putting her arms around him. "It worries me because you can't even admit it."

"Admit what?" he whispered, knowing exactly what she meant and knowing exactly why he shuddered to say the words.

"You don't miss being a cop. You miss being a criminal."

"Listen," he said, pulling away and cradling her face in his hands. "I won't agree to it if this makes you too uncomfortable. I won't leave if you need me here. This relationship - our marriage is not a price I'll pay. But please don't forget that Dom and Letty need me, too. I have to bring them back. I'm the one who will have to bring them back."

"Don't. Don't do that. Don't make it sound like you're giving me a choice because then it just makes me the bad guy. I know you've already made up your mind."

"I won't say yes to Hobbs until he gives us all the information. If it's an easy plan then we'll be in and out. But if there's even a chance, the slightest, that things can go wrong then I'm out."

"That's never been the case. That train job in Rio was supposed to be easy and look what happened. It doesn't matter if you're out there bringing down a plane, or strapping a kid into the car. I think we've proven that danger will follow us everywhere. You can never know if something is easy or not."

"Let me at least try to do this in a way that makes us both happy," he pleaded.

She shook her head but let him pull her close again.

"Come home, Brian. You have to come home. I need you. We need you."

He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead. Later that night, the two of them slept huddled close together, too frightened to let the other one go. But to each of them, it felt like there were miles of separation coming in between.

* * *

The next morning, Mia found herself suppressing all her worries as she shuffled through the trauma ward. It wasn't until lunchtime, after she'd done the last of her rounds for her morning shift, that she sat down in the cafeteria and pulled out her phone. Like clockwork, it had become a habit to check on Brian before she ate. By now, it was muscle memory. Even though she didn't want to talk to him, her hand reached for the phone. She contemplated calling him but his words from the previous night kept swimming in her brain.

_I miss it more than anything in the world. _

She settled on sending him a text instead, one that read: _Morning shift done. Grabbing lunch and then covering Damian's evening shift. Won't be home until dinner. Fix something for the kids. _

After she hit send, and paused for a moment, she decided to add: _Love you. _

She knew he'd get the message. Texting instead of calling was a code for 'I don't want to talk to you'. But after having so many near death experiences, neither of them could afford ignoring each other. They just kept their conversations low key when they were angry. The first year or so after their marriage, it always worried Mia when they fought. What if every fight would lead to a break up? What if he left? What if she felt the need to leave? What would happen to their kids? Would the next fight put an end to this? But after being married for almost twelve years, and not even counting the years they'd been together before that, she'd grown a little immune to the novelty of fighting. Now, she just allowed herself to deal with it. In a lot of ways, it made things better. They knew that nothing could break them, and that confidence allowed them to shed unnecessary fear and deal with the problem. Not only did they get over their fights faster but it also prevented them from dealing with the same thing again.

Her phone buzzed and she checked the reply: _Okay. Love you too._

"Did you put someone in the dog house?"

She looked up and laughed as Jean sat in front of her. Jean had been the person she'd known longest, right from when they'd both started their internship together. Rough times, rough cases, and rough aftermaths, had turned them into best friends. If there was anything Mia loved at this hospital, aside from helping save lives, it was knowing that there was one friend she had who didn't have the kind of baggage she dealt with at home.

"You could say that."

"What's going on? What did Brian do now?" Jean asked, uncapping her chocolate pudding. Mia stabbed her plate of pasta angrily as she recounted how frustrated she was at her husband.

"He's being – an idiot. You know how I told you Brian used to be a bit of a …daredevil?" she asked. Jean rolled her eyes, chuckling.

"You mean, do I remember you describing in nauseating detail how hot he looked sweaty and flushed from an adrenaline rush? Are you kidding? I know that's why you fell for him."

Mia didn't deny it. It came up every time anyone asked her how her and Brian had met. It was the same story. He'd been racing, and he'd always come to her store in the aftermath and order that shitty tuna. Somewhere along the way, she'd stopped laughing and started falling.

"Yeah, well, we kind of agreed to put an end to it because, you know, the kids. We can't be risking our lives when we've got someone depending on us. Besides, he's not young anymore."

"Could've fooled me," Jean muttered. Mia laughed, despite her anger, playfully shoving her friend's shoulder.

"Anyway," she continued. "He's recently heard about this…skydiving trip. And he's really pumped to go because it's summer and the kids are older. Jack barely hangs around the house anymore, and Gisele has got all sorts of plans for the holidays already. He just wants to go for the trip."

"And you're worried that once he gets a taste, he'll want more. Or worse, he won't come home alright."

"Am I being too paranoid?" Mia asked, knowing that everything she'd described was just a toned down version of just how dangerous it was what Brian wanted to run to.

"Okay, let me tell you a little story," Jean said, waving her chocolate covered spoon. "You remember how I told you I had already been married once before I met Tommy?"

"Yeah, right out of high school. You never talk about that."

"Yeah, because who wants to remember what an idiot I was with that one? That one was doomed to fail. Anyway, his name was Harry, and let me tell you Mia, he was an adrenaline junkie. And I don't mean skydiving and fast cars. I mean street racing, and illegal shit."

"Wait," Mia interrupted. "You don't mean Harry as in…from Harry's Automotives?"

"What? No, ew, he's like eighty or something. No, his son. You remember him?"

Mia tried to remember ever meeting anyone around her age being behind the counter at Harry's. To be frank, she couldn't. There had always been young employees in and out of the place, her husband included. It suddenly seemed like such a small world, for one of her best friends to have a link to Harry's even though that had all been in her L.A life. Although, it was her own fault for working in a hospital that was closer to her old home than the new one. Even if the commute was a pain during peak hours, it was still as close to home she could be.

"No, but funny story. Brian used to work there when I met him."

"You're telling me that story when I'm done with mine. Anyway, we were reckless kids. I'd let him take me to the races and it was terrifying watching them do that. I never got what was sexy about it. I mean I love looking at a nice, shiny car but I wanted to be a nurse. This was the opposite of what I'd appreciate. Recklessness was not my thing, right? But Harry Jr. was not in agreement. He always wanted to be out and on the streets."

"And that ended your marriage?" Mia whispered.

"Babe, if I wanted to give you advice that would end your marriage I wouldn't do it like this. That's not the point of this tale. Harry and I got a divorce because he started doing drugs and I drew a line at substance abuse. No, the speed didn't end our marriage."

"Then what happened in that aspect?"

"I got it. I got what he meant because even though it could kill him, I knew it would kill him more to sit at a nine to five and forget everything he loved. You should've seen it, Mia. The happiest he was before he got his license was when he was working after hours at the shop with his Dad. And I got it, because it's the same reason I walk into a place of death and dying everyday. We watch five people die on the table, but the sixth one lives to see another day and it matters, you know? Harry always used to say just one thing whenever I begged him not to go out. He'd always say: I might die, Jeanie, but I'll know I'm dying the happiest man on earth. And I couldn't force him to die sad and alone at home."

"So, I should just let Brian go do this? What if it's not safe?"

"Would you rather live with Brian the rest of your life knowing he's missing out on what matters to him? Or would you rather live the rest of your life knowing he gave up his life doing the thing that made it worth living to him?"

"I won't be able to live if something happens to him, Jeanie," Mia whispered. "I can't live without him. I can't make my kids live without him."

Jean put an understanding hand on her shoulder.

"You won't be able to live knowing your fear has made him unhappy, either. It's choosing between two evils, babe."

Mia gave her a grateful smile, still skeptical about the whole thing. If it really had been skydiving, she wouldn't have batted an eyelid. This was much worse. Jean noticed her hesitation and grinned, stuffing her mouth with more pudding.

"So, Brian worked at Harry's, huh? Tell me more."

* * *

Dom was leaning heavily into his chair when he heard the office door open and close. He didn't have to look to know who it was. The only person who didn't knock was the one who didn't need to. Besides, he knew Nico wasn't coming in today and Brian had been too distracted to even be around him.

"Hey," he said in a low voice as his wife kissed the top of his head and sat herself on the edge of the table. She looked a bit sweaty from the heat and he raised his eyebrows. Pulling her into his lap, he kissed her jaw.

"Where's the little monster?" he asked, referring to their tornado of a daughter. Letty and Dom had always known their offspring would be a terror to unleash upon the people of the world, but they'd underestimated the fact that they'd also have to deal with her rebelling against them.

"Drove me in circles all morning. I just dropped her off at her friend's. They're all having some kind of Harry Potter marathon."

"Kids," he grinned, shaking his head. She grinned back. But they both saw how neither smile was full.

"Dom. Please. Don't do this," Letty said. "You know I'd have said yes in a heartbeat if this was before Hanley. Hell, I'd have been the one dragging you into it. You _know._ But not with her in the picture."

Dom knew exactly what she meant. He could still hear her words, some of the last ones she'd spoken to him before he'd left her, before the accident. She'd always been the one who'd laughed and said they were doing their job if the cops were coming down on them. Domesticity and responsibility had crushed that part of her – not to mention, losing herself along with her memories. She wasn't the same Letty anymore even though she had her memories back. This Letty was darker, more dangerous, but also more human, in many ways. This was a Letty who clung to her life because she'd lost it more than once.

"You know I have to."

"You could never stay out of trouble, could you?" she demanded. "Even back then with Tran. And then in Rio, with that Reyes crap?"

"Rio was necessary. He took out Vince. He couldn't get away with that."

"You were running that job long before Vince came into it."

"We needed the money, Letty," he said, in a hard voice. "We're still running on that money. We needed freedom. We couldn't keep Brian and Mia running with Jack on the way."

"Oh come on, Dom. You were planning on messing with that chip even before Mia fessed up. You're forgetting that I know you. You got curious after they wanted the GT-40, and you had to know because you can't handle not knowing. And now, you can't handle not being a part of this. We always swore we'd stay away from the Russians."

"They're going to come to Anaheim. They're going to fuck us over. I just know it. We can't sit and wait for them to come."

"Dammit, Dom," Letty stood up, running a frustrated hand through her hair. "You nearly lost me once because of your stupidity. You nearly lost Mia when you told her to stay away from Brian. Your misplaced protectiveness has always done you in. What are you willing to lose now? Hanley? Or are you willing to let her lose you? Because I'm not sitting around and letting that shit happen. And I sure as hell am not sitting home if you're going into this. Are we going to leave the kid without both her parents now?"

"You're not coming with," he said, glaring at her.

"Try and stop me," she said, opening the door and walking out. "I dare you."

* * *

"So, on a scale of absolutely yes to fucking never, should I get a buzzcut?" Nico asked, leaning back against the table. The rest of the people in the room looked up, eyeing him warily. The group sat in the garage attached to the small house Nico shared with his friends, Cody and Skeeter. The house was small enough for them to comfortably afford. The garage was the main reason everyone even hung out there. When Nico wasn't fixing cars for Brian and Dom's garage, he was playing guitar for his band. They weren't exactly world famous. They'd started out as a little group in school, and continued after graduation instead of going to college. They played a few gigs here and there at pubs and restaurants, but none of them wanted any records or deals. They were too terrified of the fame ruining them and their love for music. They played as long as they wanted to.

Jack, as the youngest member of the band and the only one still in school, snorted while juggling his drumsticks.

"You wish you could pull it off," he laughed. Nico flipped him off.

Jack's family had never fully understood how easily he'd fit into a group of people who'd been four years ahead of him at school. He'd only been a freshman when Nico had moved to California to finish his senior year. He hadn't known any of the others back then. It was because of Nico that he'd been introduced to the other guys and because of him that they'd realized what a brilliant drummer he was. Sometimes when his dad asked him why he loved hanging out with older kids, he always said it was because they felt closer to what his life should've been like. Nobody at home ever argued that. Everyone knew how frustrated Jack felt being a nineteen year old who was still stuck as a senior in high school. It wasn't his own fault – he wasn't a failure by any means. It's just that, between being born in December and moving from Spain to L.A to the D.R and back to Anaheim, his records and schooling had gone haywire. They'd forced him to repeat the first grade to get him back on track and it had thrown his education into the backseat. He'd already been one of the older kids in his elementary school in the DR, and having it bumped again had angered him a lot. He'd felt like his life was doomed to run in slow motion because of things that weren't even his doing. Nico's band had probably been the only thing that made it bearable being a sixteen year old freshman.

Now, three years later, they were the family he had outside of his real family. He continued juggling as he ran over what Gi had told him the previous night. His dad thought he had a girlfriend and if Jack had any hope of hiding his secret street racing life then he had to bring a girl home. But whom could he possibly bring? He hadn't had a girlfriend since before the winter break of junior year. It was summer now and he had no inclination towards dating. It seemed like any girl he found was lured in by the band status and the thrill of being a racer. But they always seemed stumped when they realized he was truly dedicated to what he did and didn't just do it for showing off. His first love would always be racing and music, and now it seemed like that was going to prevent him from ever finding an actual human being.

For one wild second, he considered fessing up. He considered telling his dad to get into the car and driving that useless hybrid of a Prius to the secret garage he maintained on the outskirts of the city. He considered pulling open the doors and replacing his car with the illegally modified Skyline he actually drove to all the races. He wanted nothing more than to see the pride in Brian's eyes when he realized his son was more O'Conner than Toretto. Jack had taken a lot of precautions to make sure nobody would ever find out what he did. Aside from the fact that his car wasn't built to race, he'd always wanted a separate car in the rare situation that his parents borrowed the Prius and wondered why the hell the odometer looked like he'd been driving a 192 mile round trip each weekend. That was the only reason he even drove all the way to Palm Springs to race, even though the scene in L.A and Orange County was much better.

The racing scene here kept things real. You had genuine car loving enthusiasts who drooled over what was under the hood. You had kids admiring metal. You had kids learning the meaning of loyalty as the crowd dispersed under the police chases. You had kids who truly loved racing so much that they'd give it all – even pink slips – to feel the rush. The L.A racing scene was a thriving, living creature that survived off the love of cars.

Palm Springs was a joke compared to that. All it had were wide roads without any real worry about closing them off. There were rich kids who didn't feel the need to win because they could easily produce another wad of cash to throw in. There were no worries about losing cars to crashes or being reckless because they could buy another one. There was no worry for cops because they'd bought them all. There was no respect or love for the metal or the road. It was just a bunch of show off vacation crowds who could pretend to race till the sun went down and then, they could fly home to their real lives. Sure, it was easy money smoking them all. But Jack wanted nothing more than to become a part of the L.A scene. He knew it wasn't possible without his parents finding out.

But he couldn't tell them. He knew rare stories - ones that usually came after more than enough Corona had gone around after the Sunday post-Church barbecue. He knew stories of how his dad had once been a cop who'd gone undercover but then let them go because he respected them. He knew stories of how they used to race. Hell, he even knew they'd once been fugitives – he just wasn't sure for what. He also knew that Nico's parents had died because they'd messed with the wrong people. But that didn't change that his family's elders were adamant on not bringing their kids into the same world. He'd heard enough of no-racing lectures the whole time his dad had taught him how to drive and when he'd been given his car keys. They'd make him quit. He knew it. And he couldn't live with himself if he had to give it up.

Some days, Jack O'Conner felt like he had little to live for unless it was cars or his drums. He wasn't sure where that attitude came from. He'd always been a surprisingly lively child, always full of excitement. It felt like one day he'd just woken up wanting more and he knew it was all just out of reach.

He looked up, distracting himself from his morose thoughts. Nico was messing with the electric guitar, the one with the yellow faded print. Jack recognized it immediately. It was the guitar that Uncle Vince had owned, and then left behind when Jack's dad's mission had forced the family to scatter. His mom had found it in the garage and sent it to Nico, in Rio, when he was still a little kid. Even now, even though Nico had a newer, nicer guitar, he still practiced on his dad's. For good luck, he always said.

"So, what's up, Jack-man?" Skeeter, whose real name nobody ever remembered, asked. "Why the mood?"

"My dad thinks I'm keeping a secret. And instead of suspecting racing, he thinks it's a girl. Now, I have to bring a girl home."

"Alright," Cody grinned, looking up from the notebook where he usually scribbled lyrics and doodles. "Finally going to get yourself a babe?"

"Watch that tone, mister," Christine called out, throwing a guitar pick at him. Christine, the second girl in the band, was absentmindedly braiding her hair while humming. The other girl, their vocalist, Riley, was nowhere to be found. She was on a weeklong camping trip up in Tahoe, with her parents and sister.

"You know what I mean, Chrissy. Jack-O has been alone for too long," Cody replied.

"I'm fine," Jack waved off. "But I need someone to be a pretend girlfriend. This would be a good time to actually have any friends outside of this useless lot," he joked. "I'd ask Riley but she's gone."

"Why won't you ask me?" Christine asked, giving him a look. Christine was the other younger one in the group, having just graduated from school this summer. She'd been the one who'd kept Jack company while the rest of the band had left school. Aside from Nico, who was family and didn't count, she was his best friend.

He gave her a look, as though the answer to that was obvious.

"No, really, think about it," Christine continued, sitting up. "Your parents don't know I'm gay. And we don't have to worry about this turning into a bad rom-com where real feelings get in the way of some pretend thing. I'm perfect."

"She has a point," Nico said, not looking up.

"You're serious," Jack sat up, not daring to hope. "You'll be my fake girlfriend? I don't know how long it'll go on for, Chrissy. I don't know what they'll expect."

"Relax, I dated a guy or two before I saw the light," she laughed. "I can pull it off. And I'm sure Macey won't mind." Macey was Chrissy's girlfriend. "As long as you keep your hands off."

"Not even tempted." That earned him a well-deserved smack on the back of his head. But he had to laugh. For the first time since waking up that day, he felt a little hope. He could still have everything he wanted.

* * *

By the time evening came around, Jack was in a bouncy mood when he opened the front door to his house. All of that drained away when he caught the look on his dad's face.

"Where's Mom?" Jack asked, shutting the door behind him.

"Working a late shift. I think she's covering for a friend. How was your day?" Brian asked, looking up. He held a beer in his hand. Jack winced. If his Dad was drinking at seven in the evening and his mom had agreed to a late shift, it meant they were fighting. He'd been pretending to ignore it but him and his sister had both noticed how off his parents had been since his aunt and uncle had visited the previous night. He hoped nothing bad had happened.

"Pretty chill. I think Cody finished the new song he's been writing. But we can't test it out until Riley comes back. And unless we know how she sounds when she sings it, we can't really start working on the instrumental. Besides, it just feels wrong working on it without her around," he said, flopping down on the couch beside his father. Brian smirked at his son's words, turning back to the movie he was watching.

Jack waited for a beat or two before he cleared his throat and turned to look at him.

"So," he said.

"So?" Brian asked, throwing him a curious look.

"If I wanted to bring a girl home, it wouldn't be a problem?" he ventured. He made sure to put a nervous note in his voice, since Gisele's story had been that Jack was supposed to be nervous about bringing this girl home. He really needed to sell it if his parents were to believe that this girl was the only big secret he had.

"Yeah. Why? Did you meet someone?" Brian asked, muting the television. Jack had to stop himself from smiling. He momentarily hated himself for fooling his dad like this. Brian had always made an extra effort to be a better dad than he'd had. Not just in terms of splitting the load with Mia, or driving the kids around. It was the little things, like muting the television to let his son know he had his full attention. Jack hated himself, a little.

"Sort of. I mean I wouldn't say she's the one or anything. But I think it could be going somewhere."

"Are you going to give me a name?" Brian joked.

"Chrissy," Jack admitted.

"Chrissy?" Brian asked, eyes widening a bit. "As in Christine? From the band? How did that happen?"

"It just kind of did, I don't know. One day it wasn't happening, and the next day it was."

"And all those times your mom asked you about her, throughout freshman and sophomore year –"

"I was an idiot," Jack nodded, trying not to laugh. He'd appreciated his mother's attempt at playing cupid but even cupid couldn't change the fact that Jack was the wrong kind of guy for Chrissy. Any kind of guy was wrong for her.

"Why didn't you tell us before? We know Chrissy. She's a nice girl," Brian frowned. Jack had an answer prepared for this too.

"I don't know. We kind of agreed to take it really slow, and not just jump into telling everyone. She's worried that if it becomes too serious too soon and then we break up, it'll affect the band. We don't want that. The band's like family. We don't want anything to happen to it, or the friendship we have. Those come first."

"That's mature," Brian nodded. "Look, Chrissy's great. You bring her over for dinner this weekend. In fact, bring her to the barbecue."

"You sure?" Jack asked, surprised. His mom had always told him that, when she was a kid, Sunday barbecue was for everyone who attended Church. But Jack knew that over the last few years, since they'd come to Anaheim, Sunday was for family. They attended Church and then got together. Just the family. The only other person who wasn't related directly to them by blood or law and was invited was Nico. Tej, Roman, Carla (Roman's girlfriend) or Suki joined whenever they visited. He was sure, once or twice, someone named Santos and Leo had also joined. But that was always it. Family was family. And Nico and Jack's band was a separate family. The two had never intersected. For Brian to offer that was huge, and Jack hated himself again.

"No," Jack said. "That would be making it too serious. I'll invite her for normal dinner tomorrow or something."

Brian chuckled and shrugged. Jack didn't mention how he couldn't deceive his entire family by bringing a fake girlfriend to the barbecue. That was a line even he didn't cross.

Later, he was still planted in front of the television when his mom came home. His dad had long abandoned the movie and moved to the garage. When the front door opened, Mia looked exhausted. But when Jack went into the hall to see her, she smiled at him.

"Hey. Give me a hand with these," she said, holding out the brown packages of food. He grabbed them and frowned.

"Dad already ordered Chinese," he said.

"Oh, I know. He isn't very creative. I figured he'd order this since we did pizza yesterday. I just picked it up on the way."

"Nice," he grinned, peeping into the bag and pulling out the contents. Mia smiled back as she washed her hands over the sink.

"So, you and Chrissy? Finally?" she teased. He laughed along, pretending to blush. He felt happy knowing he brought a smile to that stressed face. But the knowledge of it all being fake was killing him. How was he going to deal with weeks of pretending about this if he couldn't do a few hours? He was okay keeping secrets as long as they were entirely separate from home. This was not separate.

"Don't say I told you so," he warned her, just as Brian walked in. Jack watched from the corner of his eye as his dad kissed the side of his mom's head. She patted his cheek in return, but neither said anything. So, there was still something going on.

The tension in the room was cut by thumping coming from upstairs, which sounded an awful lot like Gi was stomping around. There were some muffled theatrics and then the sound of her running down the stairs. Jack raised an eyebrow as he saw her flushed face.

"Oh, good, you're home. I was just remembering you," Gisele said, looking at her mom.

"What can I do for you?" Mia asked, resting her chin on her hand, leaning against the island.

"How long does it take for a foot sprain to heal?"

"Did you get hurt?" Mia asked, at the same time as Jack leaned back and looked down to inspect his sister's foot.

"No, not me. Joyce Lowell had a little incident involving roller blades. She said she's seen the doctor but there's no news on when it will fully heal. I don't know more. I didn't even hear it directly from her."

"I don't know, baby," Mia shrugged, giving her a helpless smile. "I can't tell until I've seen her foot or at least a report."

Gisele groaned in frustration.

"If she doesn't heal quick then she's going to have to sit out practice the entire summer. It's going to throw off the entire season if she doesn't catch up."

Jack grinned.

"And you wonder why people think cheerleaders are heartless bitches."

He ducked a punch from his sister.

"Not fair. I was worried about her but Lauren insisted she was going to be okay. In fact, it'll kill Joyce if she stays out of the game. I'm going to go check on her. Give me the keys."

Jack narrowed his eyes at her, sending her a silent warning.

"Jack, don't call your sister a bitch," Mia chided. "Gi, we just got dinner. I'm sure your friend will be fine. You can go see her first thing tomorrow."

"No, I want to go talk to her. If she's going to be sick, then I don't want her in a bad mood too. I'm not letting her summer get ruined. I'll just reheat leftovers when I'm back. Jack, give me the keys."

"No, you heard mom. You can go later."

They had a silent staring competition.

"If Joyce doesn't heal in time, I'm forcing you to help me with lifts."

Jack grimaced. When he'd just started high school, he'd been excited to help Gisele with her cheerleading. He'd even learnt how to properly disperse his weight and help her with her lifts. The only reason for that had been that Gisele would allow him to watch practices, or she'd have practice sessions in their backyard. And that meant cheerleaders always around him. Now that he'd gotten over the novelty of liking girls, it was a pain when Gisele roped him into helping her lifts.

Mia sighed and then shook her head as if she couldn't do much about her daughter's stubbornness. Jack reluctantly took the car keys out of his pocket and tossed them at Gi. She caught them easily and kissed his cheek before stepping out of the kitchen.

"Be back before ten!" Brian called out, settling on the counter chair with chopsticks and his box of take out.

"Yeah!" Mia added. "No turning this into a sleepover, Gisele! You've got an early morning meeting with your guidance counselor."

"I'll be back before ten! Promise! Love you guys!" she called out. Then they heard the front door shut.

Jack wasn't smiling, though. He pulled out his cellphone and texted Gisele: _I know how far your cheerleader friend stays. If the odometer tells me you're going to see Danny, I'll know. _

He didn't reach for the chopsticks until he got a reply: _Stay out of it. _

He hissed as he chucked his phone on the counter. His parents raised their eyebrows.

"Something wrong?" Brian asked.

Jack shrugged, an idea already formulating in his head.

"Gi's complaining because she has to fill gas. She says I have to pay her back since I left it empty."

"Why do you have to pay?" Mia frowned. "I thought we had a deal about this. Whichever one of you uses the car, that one pays for gas."

"That's what I told her."

"I'll talk to her when she comes back," Brian said, before taking a large bite of his noodles. Jack had to stop himself from grinning. If he was forced to keep quiet about his sister's boyfriend, then he sure as hell didn't have to make it easy on her.

There were the distinct sounds of a car screeching and gunshots. Both his parents jumped, eyes wide. Jack gave them a weird look as he got up from his own seat.

"Relax. I just left the TV on. I'll turn it off."

But his parents didn't settle down comfortably even when he returned. They remained on edge long after it was all done.

* * *

Gisele hadn't been lying when she said Joyce Lowell had a sprained foot. She did really go and see her, and gave her a little pep talk about the season. From the looks of it, it was a minor incident and she'd be up and cheering before next week. Cheering camp didn't even start for another three weeks. Needless to say, without a reason to stick around and some time left before she had to be back, Gisele drove out of Anaheim and towards Irvine.

Danny Fuller was a mystery of a guy. That much had been established when he attended school all the way in Anaheim when he could've just gone closer to home. There were always rumors about how he'd been to juvie for a few months and then decided to switch schools to escape the heat. Gisele had always wondered, even as she'd watched him from a distance. For the longest time, throughout her late middle school years, there was little Gisele had known about Jack's time in school. But she did know one thing. Jack didn't have a lot of friends. He just had a few people he considered family, and one nemesis: Daniel Fuller. Both of them were classmates and they'd always been at ends. There had been times when Gisele suspected they fought violently, but their parents never knew so it couldn't have been bad.

Of course, now that she actually knew a lot more, she knew that Danny and Jack didn't fight in the halls. They fought on the streets, their feet aiming throttles instead of kicks, their hands punching gears instead of faces. She'd always known Danny was trouble. That's probably why she'd been attracted to him in the first place. Star cheerleader, four point oh GPA, weekends volunteering at the soup kitchen when she wasn't at Church, and she'd fallen for Danny Fricking Fuller. She was a chick flick stereotype waiting to happen.

The boyfriend in question was driving up to where she'd parked her car, outside the park a few blocks from his house. Danny and Gisele had one rule. Whatever they did, it could never be near somewhere the parents could find out. The teenagers may not have held a grudge against each other, but as far as their parents were concerned, they had to pay for the sins of the father.

"Hi gorgeous," Danny whispered, getting off his bike and greeting her with a quick kiss. "Need help finishing that?"

He was pointing to the pack of fries she'd bought from the drive thru on the way over.

"Please. My mom expects me to finish dinner when I get home. I can't be full."

"Cute," he grinned, stealing some fries. "I see you got the car. Your brother didn't give you a hard time about coming over?"

She remained silent.

"Ah, he doesn't know."

When she didn't say anything again, he put aside his helmet and pulled her close, his arms on her waist. She found herself winding her arms around him in return.

"How much longer, Danny?" she whispered, asking the same question over and over again. "How much longer do we pretend this doesn't exist."

"Baby, you know that's out of my hands. I can't do shit. The only reason your brother hasn't killed me is because you're keeping his secrets. And if my mom ever knew, she'd put a bullet in you before you said hello."

He didn't sugarcoat it, didn't pretend she had a chance of being in his home. Instead, he let her have the truth and pulled her close for comfort.

"Let's face it, Gi. If your dad doesn't kill me for who I am, then he'll kill me for other things."

She didn't need to say it. They both knew the harsh truth. It hadn't been all that scandalous for them to date when they'd started seeing each other in the beginning of February. Things had been easy. Keeping secrets was new to her and she'd reveled in the thrill. But now, she was tired. And now, she also ran the real risk of not just brothers and dads, but also the police. Everything had changed in April, when Danny turned eighteen. Everything changed because suddenly he wasn't just two years older than her. He was officially an adult and he'd be in big trouble because she was still a minor. It didn't matter if they were both still school kids. Adult meant adult in the eyes of the law. And consent wouldn't mean a damn thing because she was just sixteen.

"I hate this," she mumbled. "I hate having you be my dirty little secret."

"We'll find a way," he said, lightly kissing her. "I promise, we'll find a way. I love you. No matter what happens, I love you, okay? Don't forget it."

She nodded and then let him kiss her. He always said that. No matter what happened, they'd love each other. But even as Gisele let him kiss her and make her forget her troubles, she couldn't shake the feeling that whatever it was that was going to happen, it was going to be soon.


	3. Rash Decisions

**Hey guys! So this one took a little while longer because we're finally getting into the main plotline of the story, and I didn't want to mess it up too badly. I'd like to thank all of you who've sent their love and subscriptions - it makes me really happy to know people enjoy reading. Do let me know how you're liking the story so that I know what I'm doing right and what to change.**

**I also want to apologize for any errors because it's the middle of the night while I'm proof reading and I may have missed something.**

**I'd also like to give a gentle reminder (and it makes me a little sad that I have to say this) but aside from all canon information, I own OCs, characterizations of Jack, Nico, (other non-developed canons), as well as intellectual property. I am flattered if you're inspired by this story, but please DON'T steal ideas. I've spent a lot of time and effort developing them.**

**Thank you, and have a happy read! Until next time,**

**Brooke xx**

* * *

"You know, you can back out of this. There is still time. There's no going back once we walk in," Jack muttered under his breath as he pulled up outside his house. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, a nervous sweat trickling behind his neck. He swallowed loudly. It was the first time he'd be bringing a lie home. His lies at home had always been cover stories, but he'd never imagined entangling his family into an elaborate theatre that could crumble at any time. There was never meant to be collateral damage to his less than legal double life.

"Jack," Chrissy whispered, and he turned to look at her. Her face was calm and collected, and he realized just how easy it might be for her. She had to pretend to be this whole other person in a fake relationship – a blank canvas she could paint a pretty picture on. He didn't have that luxury. When his canvas would tear, it would hold the shambles of his family and the trust they placed in him.

"Jack, I'm ready for this," she said. "But are _you_?"

"I have to be," he said, shaking his head clear. _Come on, Jack. You've told bigger lies. Just pretend it's real. For a few hours, pretend it's real. _

He walked up to the front door, his arms awkwardly hanging by his side, his mind uncomfortably aware of the way he moved. He felt Chrissy clutch his hand tightly, and then interlink their fingers. She moved a little closer, cocked her body a little towards his, as if they were in a magnetic pull towards each other.

_Pretend it's real._

He unlocked the door and before he'd even closed it, his mother had descended into the foyer.

"Christine!" she said, the same bright way she greeted her every time she was around. Jack could see how hard she was trying not to change everything in their reception – apparently Brian had already told Mia how badly the kids wanted to take things slow. But Jack could see the slight sparkle in her eyes as she greeted the woman in her son's life. He'd have to be the one to kill that one day. It was inevitable.

"Hi, Mrs. O'Conner!" Chrissy responded, naturally. "Oh, that smells amazing. What are we having?"

"Spaghetti," Mia admitted, turning a little flushed. "I would've done something more elaborate but I got home from work not too long ago, and you know Brian. He could burn the house down trying to boil an egg."

"I heard that," Jack heard his father call out from the den.

Chrissy simply laughed, putting a friendly hand on Mia's shoulder.

"I live on ramen noodles and McDonald's. This is gourmet," she said, before grinning. "Besides, a good cook can turn the simplest of things into seven star courses."

"Then she should be the owner of a Michelin star restaurant by now," Gisele said, licking the spoon she'd just dipped into the simmering pot of sauce. She immediately went for a second but Mia smacked her hand away.

"No double dipping," she scolded, lightly. "And you're saying grace."

Gisele grumbled as Chrissy laughed louder, and the two girls vanished into the den. Jack hovered behind his mother, watching her check the sauce before she turned to him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, tilting her head, eyes narrowed with worry. Jack immediately shook his head.

"Nothing. Why would anything be wrong?" he asked with a confused smile.

"I've known you from before you were born. I know when something is bothering you," she said, putting a hand on his cheek. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

Jack shrugged, ducking out of her reach and quickly kissing her cheek.

"I'm fine. You worry too much," he laughed. The entire time, he could feel his insides twisting with every fake, nonchalant word coming out of his mouth. His conscience was keeping a vice like grip on him, hovering over his shoulder, into his shadows. He wanted to shake it off. He wanted to forget what it felt like having a conscience. It was unfair for it to show up now, after nearly a year and a half of doing what he did.

"Hey, Jack!" he heard Chrissy call, and he pointed in her general direction as a sign. His mother gave him an understanding smile, waving him away. The entire time he walked out of the room, he felt her gaze on his back, stronger than any conscience had ever felt.

* * *

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the summer, Christine?" Brian asked, later that evening, as the five of them sat around the dining table. Chrissy had been in the middle of swallowing a bite, so it took her a few seconds to respond.

"You mean aside from keeping an eye on these morons?" she asked, pointing at Jack and referring to the rest of their band. Gisele snorted and Jack let out a sarcastic laugh. "I'm actually taking a gap year, before college. My parents wanted me to join right away, but I knew that if I didn't give the music a chance then I'd regret it forever. Stanford is alright with me taking a break and joining next fall. And if by then, I still want college more than the band, then I'll go upstate."

Mia looked over, interested.

"What major did you apply for?"

"Psychology," she said, a far off look in her eyes. "Always loved it. Maybe I'll get to make a career out of it, too."

"What kind of stuff did you put in your application?" Gisele piped up. "What activities? And was the essay really hard to write?"

"Let her breathe and eat, Jesus," Jack said, nudging Gisele. His younger sister threw him an irritated look, but still managed to flush a little from embarrassment.

"Oh, no, it's cool. If you want, I can sit with you and some of the guides that helped me out. Jack told me you're aiming for the Ivy Leagues," Chrissy smiled. "Get my number from Jack. We can talk about it later."

Jack felt his fist clench under the table. More connections were being made, and with every passing second he felt like his head would explode. Sure, his sister was pretty well acquainted with all his friends, just like he knew all of hers. Even as kids, they'd always made an effort to know the kind of people the other one hung out with. But now, with so many lies hiding behind the table, it felt like a storm tossing everything out of position.

He felt a gentle hand unclench his fingers and he looked up. Although she wasn't looking at him, he knew it was Chrissy. He clutched her hand tight, desperate for something to ground him amidst his swirling thoughts. His parents pretended not to notice, but he could feel Gisele's silent stare. Gisele, who knew this was all just a charade. The air hung heavy with unsaid words, even as they cleaned up and Chrissy insisted on helping in the kitchen.

"I think it's getting a little late," Jack announced, after all of them had settled in front of the couch in the den with tall glasses of cold coffee. It seemed like an odd dessert drink, but it was just too hot outside to even contemplate hot coffee or cocoa. They'd all been channel surfing, more engaged in conversation than what was on the television. His words broke that bubble.

Chrissy nodded, slurping the last of her coffee before heading to the kitchen. Both Brian and Mia gave Jack a curious look. He knew that look. It was the look he'd received his whole life whenever he was being rude.

"Er –" Mia stood up, as Chrissy came out and headed to get her purse. "Are you sure you can't stay longer, dear? Or is it going to be a long ride?"

"A little. Traffic's going to be bad tonight, since it's Friday. Plus, Jack is my ride and I don't think he should have to come back late. It was really lovely being here, Mrs. O'Conner."

"You're always welcome here, Christine," Brian said, standing up. "Just come on over whenever."

"Thanks, Mr. O'Conner," she beamed. Jack all but lunged for the Prius keys, waving his parents goodbye.

The moment he got back in the car, he drove at least a few blocks away before stopping and resting his head on the steering. Chrissy gently rubbed his back.

"You okay, Jackie?" she whispered. "What's wrong? Come on, talk to me."

"I don't know, Chrissy," he mumbled. "I don't know. I've never felt this…this horrible and terrified before. Not when I'm gunning down the quarter mile, or drifting by the desert. I've never felt it before. It's like…I don't know, I've never had to bring anything from that life home, you know? It's always been me and this other Jack. And now…now it's all messed up and mixed up. Do you know how happy they are for me? Do you know how it'll crush them?"

"You've never considered the possibility of disappointment," she deduced, sighing sadly. "You've always been so busy hiding, Jackie, you've never considered what it would feel like for them to know. You're realizing that there is a full chance you have something to lose."

"How do I live with that?" he asked, clutching the steering. "How can I ever live with disappointing them? I can't – I _need _this other life, Chrissy. It's not even a drug. It's like breathing. It's all I look forward to every week. I can't choose between giving up either life."

"You'll have to make that choice before life makes it for you, Jack. We can't play pretend forever."

He knew that. But, oh, he wished he could contradict that fact.

* * *

"Hey," Gisele called out from her room doorway, as soon as she heard Jack coming up the stairs. She'd already said goodnight to her parents, and they never had a reason to check on her once she'd said those words. Sometimes, it was code for 'I'm not going to run into you for the rest of the night.' That's the exact reason why she hadn't hesitated to throw on some jeans instead of pajama pants and some converse.

"Hi," he said, as he rounded the corner, eyeing her carefully. Then he groaned.

"Gi –"

"I know. I know you've had a bad night," she responded, immediately. "That's why I'm _asking_ and not demanding. Will you _please _cover for me, tonight?"

"Are you actually giving me a choice or are you pretending to? Because you know if it were up to me, what I'd say."

"Don't get judgmental on me, Jack. Just answer the question. Can I count on you to have my back or not?"

He stared at her for two seconds, eyes narrowed, jaw tense, and she felt like guarding herself against whatever scrutiny he was sweeping her with. Then he hissed something under his breath, shaking his head, and walking past her. If she wasn't so attuned to him, she might've even missed the words he whispered under his breath as he stuffed the car keys into her hand.

"You know you can _always _count on me."

She didn't give a reply to it, because she knew he didn't want one. Instead, she closed her room door, leaving the blanket-covered pillows across her bed. When she was satisfied with the set up, she grabbed her phone, wallet, keys and then walked to the window. From the next one, she could hear Jack playing music. She used the opportunity to climb down the tree next to their side of the house, before disappearing into the night.

* * *

She drove to the same park she'd driven to the previous day, but instead of waiting outside in the abandoned darkness, she locked the car doors and stayed in her seat. Her one hand remained on the keys, should the need to drive arise. Her other remained on her phone. Gisele had been waiting for seven whole minutes when she heard a knock on her window and she jumped.

"You scared me," she mumbled, sighing in relief as she finally opened the car door and got out. Immediately, a warm pair of arms went around her as a greeting. She melted. How could this boy be bad news, by anyone's definition of the word? She didn't care. He was probably the sweetest person she'd ever met. The world didn't know it, but Danny was a cheesy romantic at heart.

"My mistake," he laughed, not looking the least bit sorry. She smacked his arm and then raised her eyebrows.

"So, what's up?" she asked. "Why'd you call me here at this time of the night?"

"I've been thinking about what you said the other day, about us telling people."

Gisele immediately straightened up, eyes wide. She'd never expected him to actually pay heed to that. She always brought it up and he ignored it. A nervous excitement settled low in her belly and she bit her lip.

"And?" she asked, daring to hope.

"I want you to learn how to use a gun."

"You want me to – _what_?"

Her mouth dropped open at the request, and she waited a few seconds to see if he'd laugh or give any indication that he was kidding. When he didn't, she took a few steps back and crossed her arms. The excitement in her had been replaced with fear and nausea.

"How on _earth _did you make that connection?"

"Look," he said, holding his hands up in surrender before putting them on her shoulder. "I was thinking about how I'd tell my family, and then I realized there is no way in hell they'd be okay with this. In any universe. I'm sorry, but it's true. But I also don't want to keep you a secret. It's only until I graduate and then I can get away from them. But until then, if they know, then I don't want you to be in a situation where you can't protect yourself –"

"And you decide a _gun _is the way to go about that?" she asked, choosing not to comment on the bits about how she would never be accepted into his home. The thought of that broke her heart, and right now she wanted to focus on the anger instead.

"I know you can hold your own in a fist fight," he hissed.

"And that's enough! That's how normal people learn to defend themselves."

"Really?" he asked, stepping closer. "How are you going to take down, say, five people in a fist fight? Listen to me. You knock one person out, grab their gun, and you're set."

She didn't say anything to that, letting out a frustrated whine. Her pulse was raging beneath her skin. A gun. He wanted her to learn how to operate a murder weapon. Danny ran his fingers through his hair before tilting her head to look back at him.

"You don't have to have a gun on you," he whispered. "I won't force you to carry something that makes you uncomfortable. And I know you're great at self-defense. But I don't want you ever going unprepared into a gunfight. If it ever, _ever_ comes down to it, I don't want you to be in a situation you could've gotten out of if you knew how to use one. Just, _please, _learn it as a precaution."

She wanted to say no. She wanted to get back into the car and drive far away. But his words were starting to make sense, and the look in his eyes was so earnest. It's not like she'd never seen a gun before. Both, her dad and her uncle, kept shotguns in the garage. But the idea of holding something so destructive in her hands made her skin crawl.

"I won't keep one on me," she finally relented, still sounding skeptical. She was still waiting for him to tell her it was a joke. "And I will never have to use it."

"If there's any way to prevent that outcome, then you don't have to," he promised.

"So, what, you brought me here to teach me how to shoot?"

"Not here," he said, looking around. "Come with me."

He handed her his helmet and she reluctantly put it on, double-checking that her car was locked before leaving it near the park. They drove for ten minutes until they reached what looked like an abandoned factory. Although it hadn't been a long ride, the cold wind hitting her had effectively simmered her anger. It was still very much present, but a lot more under control. Even as they got off the motorcycle and walked through the overgrown yard, she felt nauseated.

"Danny, I don't know about this…" she trailed off, looking at the carton he was moving to. "Where are we?"

"Relax," he said, pulling out empty cans. "I used to come here all the time when I was younger. Nobody bothers checking this place. And that gun is licensed, so if anything, you can toss it to me."

"What gun?" she asked.

"This one," he said, taking out the gun he had tucked into his waistband. Gisele felt goose bumps across her body – she'd been sitting on the back of his bike with that tucked right in between them. He saw her hesitation and walked closer, holding out the gun.

"It's a 9mm pistol," he said. "Fifteen rounds in the magazine, plus an extra you can put in the barrel. If you're taking it off someone, chances are you won't have to worry about loading it. But if you have to, then release, insert a fresh one and you'll hear a click. Someone will definitely have a loaded mag on them."

She blinked, letting her mind float into school mode, absorbing information as if she was going to be tested. It was more of an automatic reaction to information relay than genuine interest. It was the only way her mind wouldn't fog with panic. She had to focus.

"This is the safety," he pointed to it, and then turned it off. Then he pulled back the slide. "Locked and loaded."

Then he held it out to her. She looked at it, then up at him, her head already starting to shake.

"It's loaded with rubber bullets. Nobody is going to die," he reassured her. She frowned at that, causing him to smile wryly.

"I'm not going to hand you a gun with real bullets on your first try, Gisele."

She took it from him with shaking hands, her heart pounding inside her chest. She felt like she was holding a bomb. He moved behind her, raising her arms until they were pointed in the direction of the cans. It took a few minutes for him to guide her into a proper position before he told her to shoot. But she couldn't move a muscle.

"Pretend you're at a carnival," he whispered in her ear. "It's the middle of a warm summer evening, and you can hear all kinds of insects. Somewhere far from the city, away from the traffic. It smells strongly of caramel and cotton candy. You're pointing a gun at cans, and it's the only thing keeping away the huge, adorable, teddy bear. All you have to do is pull the trigger."

She did – and entirely missed. She didn't see where the bullet went but the fact that the cans stood untouched was proof that she hadn't even been close.

"You're nervous. There isn't a science behind this. Even the biggest of idiots can manage to fire a gun."

"Are you telling me I'm an idiot?" she scoffed.

"I'm telling you that you're the smartest person I know, so this should be a cakewalk. You've got to relax, baby," he told her, his fingers pointing out the kinks in her back. "Just take a few deep breaths, aim, and shoot."

She breathed in deep, and then out through her mouth. Taking aim again, she waited for a second before pulling the trigger. Although the bullet didn't exactly hit the center of the can, it still managed to knock it off.

"See? That's all you need to know. I don't expect you to be a professional assassin," he said, coming to stand in front of her. But her hands were once again frozen in place, eyes on the can laying in the grass. She could feel him pry the gun from her hands and then wrap his arms around her. Gisele wasn't sure if the pounding in her ears was his heart, or hers.

"I know you don't want to do this," he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Trust me, I don't want you to do this either. But I couldn't live with myself if something happens to you and gun knowledge would've made all the difference."

"Will your family really kill me?" she whispered. "Are you being overdramatic or do I really need this?"

When he didn't answer, she buried her head in his chest, letting a single tear fall. He didn't mention it, but his hold on her tightened. She wished she never had to move again.

They stayed in the factory for another half an hour, talking and practicing until the magazine was empty. It felt like a hazy dream. He showed her how to reload it but didn't ask her to start shooting again. Instead he just took her hand and led her back to the bike, driving her to the park where her car was.

"Come on, it's late. Let's go," he said, smoothing down hair that the helmet had messed up.

"Go where?" she frowned. "It's too late. I have to be home before someone notices I'm gone."

"I know. Get in your car. I'm tailing you."

She opened her mouth to respond but he gave her a look.

"It's past midnight. I'm not letting you drive all the way back alone."

On any other night she would've protested. But her hands were still shaking, ringing from the feeling of firing a gun. She nodded before getting into her car, pulling on the belt, and then driving out of the lot. The entire ride back to Anaheim, she kept her eyes trained ahead. She was positive that if she didn't, she'd break out into a cold sweat or have a panic attack. What worried her more was that it wasn't the gun handling that was causing the reaction. It was his promise that she needed to know these things to protect herself from his family. The idea of being on someone's hit list was preposterous, even though she'd always known that Danny's family weren't quite the image of white picket fence and garage sales. She wished she'd never asked him to consider telling anyone. She'd always thought that the worse that would happen in light of their relationship was prison – she didn't think there was a possibility of anyone actually ending up dead.

By the time she pulled into her lane, her knuckles were white. She caught sight of a blinker in her rearview mirror and pulled over a few houses down from hers. Danny drove up to her window and she rolled it down.

"Goodnight," he said, taking off his helmet and leaning in to kiss her. She responded automatically, her hand reaching out to hold his for comfort. He lingered for a few seconds before pulling back. Touching her chin, he looked sadly at her.

"I wish it hadn't come to this. I promise, if there's any way for you to avoid confrontation with my family, I'll make it happen. But they're ruthless. They won't stop if they're on a mission, and – Gisele, if they come after you I need you to promise me something."

"What?" she asked.

"I don't care who it is, or what they mean to me. If they come after you, you knock out whoever you have to, you take whatever gun you can, and you aim to fucking kill."

* * *

Gisele woke up in the middle of the night in cold sweat. There was the sound of a gun ringing in her ears, the cold feeling of blood on her chest. Her fingers scrambled to remove the covers she was tangled in, a panicked gasp falling from her lips. But there was no blood, no bullets. It was just a bad dream. Danny's words from earlier kept floating in her ears. _Aim to fucking kill. _

She got off the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. Splashing cold water on her flushed face, she gulped deep breaths of air, attempting to calm herself down. The cold slab under her fingers felt an awful lot like destructive metal. With every passing second, the night's events dawned on her and registered themselves. She'd done target practice - practice fueled by a need to protect herself from killers. Killers who might be after her. Killers who were her boyfriend's family. She heard a click behind her and she jumped, whirling around.

"Oh, sorry," Jack mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes. She didn't say anything and he took a few moments to shake himself free from slumber. Eyeing her warily, he frowned, blue eyes narrowed.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice husky from being passed out in bed. It was four in the morning, so she didn't blame him.

"I'm fine," she mumbled. "I'm fine. Just give me a few minutes."

He didn't move away, closing the door behind him. Alertness was starting to take over his face and she turned her back to him, splashing more cold water on herself.

"Did something happen tonight? Did Danny do anything?" he demanded, stepping closer and putting a hand on her shoulder. She shook her head rapidly, letting the tears she'd been holding back brim and fall over her cheeks. He put an arm around her, pulling her away from the water she was determined to drown her memories in.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked in a low voice. She remained quiet, even as he pulled her into a tight hug.

"Hey, Gisele," he said, sounding alarmed. "You're shaking. What's wrong?"

"It was just a dream," she gasped, lying. "Just a dream."

She felt like her knees were going to give out and he held her up, holding her close, whispering comforting words. But she could barely pay attention. She just kept reminding herself it was a dream – she had to believe it, otherwise she'd have to deal with the fact that everything good in her life had just turned into a nightmare.

* * *

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Dom asked as he got out of his car. Brian chose not to answer the question as he locked his own car doors. They stood in the parking lot of the DSS office in Los Angeles, both of them looking thoroughly uncomfortable and out of place. The sun shone down on them, making the pale blue and red of each of their cars glint like a beach catalogue.

"Let's just get this over with," Brian said, walking towards the main doors. Even though it was before noon on a Saturday, there was a flurry of activity in the Diplomatic Security Services offices. Unlike most other government offices, these manhunters would not rest on the weekends. Brian ignored the awkward double takes a few of the older staff members did, no doubt remembering the faces that had once been plastered on wanted posters across the nation. He tried to ignore them. He'd done this once, when he'd joined the FBI after screwing over his operation in LA. He could do it again. He just simply followed the directions to the meeting room Hobbs had given them.

Walking into the conference hall, he felt like a nightmare had gripped his body and slipped itself into his brain. With an uncomfortable amount of ease, he walked up to the table and studied the floor to ceiling computer screens carrying various information on the notorious Alexei Ivankov.

"Look who's getting white in the head," came an amused voice from behind him and he turned to look at Elena Neves. Needless to say, he was surprised.

"I thought you got a transfer," he frowned, although, that was what he'd heard over a decade ago. He'd had no idea what she'd been up to. The last time he'd talked to her was when she'd given them a surprise visit at Gisele's fifth birthday and then said goodbye because she was going back to Rio for an indefinite amount of time.

"I moved around a bit," she laughed. "But Hobbs just couldn't avoid seeking my help. I figured if you guys were getting involved again then I might as well return to see things through."

"We're not getting involved in anything until we know everything," Dom spoke up, having shaken himself free from the surprise of seeing Elena. It seemed so cruel for old friends to return as old ghosts.

"You'll get your information when he comes," said another agent, walking in and throwing a few files on the table. "Until then, you've got these. Background information on Ivankov, and all his known associates in the area. Hi, Elena."

To Brian and Dom's surprise, Elena hugged the new agent, busying herself with small talk. Brian tried to catch sight of a name badge or some kind of ID, and noticing the scrutiny, the other agent looked at him.

"You're Brian O'Conner, right?" she asked, holding out a hand. He shook it, nodding.

"Right, the shittiest cop in history. And Dominic Toretto, the guy whose ass my dad kicked. Nice to see you again."

Brian looked completely stumped, and even a little offended at the reputation attached to him. He'd have even preferred to be known as a fugitive or a brilliant driver – not the shittiest at something. He had no defense for his horrible job as a cop but to hear it said out loud was something of a painful dart.

"Hobbs' kid," Dom spoke up in surprise and recognition, looking a little amused.

"Janine," she corrected him.

"Yeah, yeah," Hobbs himself said as he walked into the room. "What can you do? Sometimes kids just follow in your footsteps even when you don't want them to."

Both Brian and Dom exchanged a look at that, knowing how far they'd gone to prevent that from happening with their own children.

"Anyway, introductions and reunions aside. This is what we have on Ivankov," Hobbs said, pulling up the same information from the files onto the screen.

"He's the opposite of a ghost," he explained, showing the multiple photographs and footages obtained from surveillance. "He's got an arrogant ass that thinks the more he's in the public eye, the harder it'll be to take him out. People will notice he's gone and we won't be able to keep it quiet."

"He's right," Brian pointed out. "If we go undercover for him, he'll know who we are. And it won't be an in and out mission. This guy won't go down without a fight, even if it means involving a shit load of people."

"Which is why you're not going undercover," Janine spoke up. "This area knows you too well. Even if you guys weren't known for your garage, or old street racing life, or even that undercover operation back in '01, Ivankov always scopes for enemies. He has an idea about who Braga's enemies were. You guys took out his competition, and he knows who'll be coming after him again."

"Why hasn't he taken us out already, then?" Dom asked, a challenge in his voice.

"Because you guys have been laying low. You're rats sneaking around in the pipelines of the old house. Only a matter of waiting you out."

"So then why are we here, if our best bet is to remain low?" Brian asked.

"You're here to do surveillance. Nobody knows the LA street racing world like you two do, and if there's anyone who'll look less out of place, it's you both."

"You want us to go back to racing?" Brian sounded surprised.

"I know the oaths you guys took," Hobbs said, raising an eyebrow. "I told you it was an in and out job. I don't care if you guys are some of the best I've worked with. Sending you undercover again would be plain reckless and downright foolish."

"So, we do surveillance on whom? I doubt Ivankov goes down to the streets every Friday night," Brian asked.

"Sasha Derzhavin. Ivankov's second cousin, and one of his trusted men. He's always at the races, looking out for good drivers."

"Let me guess, to move shipments?"

"No, Ivankov only keeps well known recruits for moving shipments. The kind of men he's had under his thumb for years, and the kind who'll swallow cyanide before they get pulled over by cops."

"Then who does Sasha recruit?"

"Soldiers," Janine said, her earlier sarcasm disappearing in light of official proceedings. "Ivankov is clearly building an army of some kind, especially since his new shipments over the next few months are going to be coveted arms for sale. He's expecting a turf war, and heat from law enforcement. He'll do anything to build his numbers, and there's nothing better than men who don't have information to volunteer and bodies that are expendable."

"You want us to lose, don't you?" Dom finally spoke. "You don't want us to get recruited, but something tells me if we win, we won't have a choice. You just want us there, waving wads of cash every weekend to see who is winning."

"It won't be your own wads of cash, if that helps," Hobbs spoke. "Although, you do owe us over a hundred million dollars of stolen property."

"Bygones," Brian cut in, refusing to hash out old broken promises. "You're sending us into a world where we used to be gods, only to have us lose in our comeback? That's harsh."

"Would you rather win and be given a choice between dying or becoming one of Ivankov's men?" Janine demanded. When Brian didn't respond, she smirked. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Elena said, eyeing the folders they'd gone through. "We can find other people who will look plausible when they lose."

"She's right," Dom said. "People won't buy it if we lose. One of us always wins."

"What position did you come in when you first raced him?" Janine asked, turning to Brian.

"What do you mean?" Brian asked, surprised.

"You were undercover, new to the world. Did you beat him? Did you at least come close?"

"Depends on who you ask," Brian said, sending a knowing look to Dom. "But yeah, if I'd had more experience as a racer then I might've come closer than I had."

"So, then it's settled. You guys don't lose to people you know are shit. You lose to a new racer. You lose to one of the racers we're sending in undercover. It'll be someone new, so it won't be too surprising if someone unknown beats you. And, we get an agent in. It's a win-win."

Brian didn't say anything to that, sitting down on a chair. He noticed Elena signal to the other two agents in the room, silently deciding to give them some room to think. Dom sat down on the chair beside Brian.

"I promised Mia this would be an in and out job, or I won't take it," Brian finally said.

"It's easier than things we've had to do before. No car jumping from building to building. No parachutes. No bringing down planes. It's easy information we're getting."

"She won't be okay with this. I can't risk that. Not over anything."

"I know my sister. She'll come around."

"I thought the day I'd break a promise to your sister, you'd beat my skull into my brain."

"That's before you'd been in her life for so long. I know what it's like breaking promises to her over these things. This isn't the worst of what we've done to them."

"So, we're doing this, then?"

"You knew the answer to that before we walked through those doors, O'Conner."

Brian chuckled, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"You think you can handle losing?" he laughed.

"I couldn't until someone kept reminding me I sometimes win by cheating."

* * *

Brian was back in his driveway, still strapped into the car seat, as he dialed the number he'd memorized a long time back. After two rings, when it clicked, he automatically had a grin on his face before he even heard the voice.

"One childhood friend speaking," greeted the amused voice on the other end.

"What's up, Rome?" Brian laughed.

"Nothing, man. Miami is burning up. The only time I miss Barstow is when I'm inhaling water. How's it going with you? How'd the kid's gig go?"

"Gig? What – Jack's? Dude, that was four months ago."

"So, good then?"

Brian laughed again, most of the tension rolling off of him.

"Listen, I need a favor, man. You and Tej."

"What's going on?" Roman asked, and Brian could hear him go into serious mode. He hated doing that to his friends, time and again. It was as if he and Dom had promised them all carefree lives after Rio, yet they kept reeling them back in.

"Nothing serious, man."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Brian. Did you guys come up with some other job?"

"No way. It's just some simple stuff Hobbs needs a hand with. Look, the lesser the information goes around, the better."

"What do you need us to do?"

"I need to get Mia, Letty, and the kids out of town. They're not in danger, but I don't want them around if shit goes down. It shouldn't be too difficult. It's summer, and Gisele's extra curricular stuff doesn't start for another three weeks. If you guys could come down here next week, maybe surprise us with a weekend trip ...maybe Santa Barbara or San Luis Obispo. I don't care. Something with a beach that'll interest them."

"Sure, man. Anything you need. We'll be there next weekend."

"Thanks, man. I owe you."

"Don't worry about it."

"No, seriously, Rome," Brian sighed. "We keep pulling you guys into this shit and –"

"Brian. Family. You and I never had that, man. We've both got it now, and we'd do anything for it. I told you. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks, Roman."

"Now get out of here before it turns into a daytime soap."

* * *

"I didn't think you'd call me back any time soon," Danny greeted her as she stormed up to his car. The machine would've been a sleek black beauty if not for the slightly obnoxious bullets painted on the sides. In all honesty, though, she couldn't imagine him driving anything else. It was so totally him. But at the moment she couldn't focus on that. She threw her backpack in the back seat, opening the car and slamming the door shut.

Danny eyed the bag curiously.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"No, but I told my parents I'm having a sleepover with Lauren."

"Didn't you _just _have one a few days ago?"

"They're distracted, I took advantage."

"I see," he grinned, clearly not expecting any of this. "Are _we _going somewhere?"

"Palm Springs."

"Palm…Springs," Danny repeated slowly, his smile sliding off his face. "I thought you called me here for _us. _Not to go running after your brother."

"Are you going to help me?"

"Why can't you just stop antagonizing him? He's doing _us _a favor. I thought you might want to take advantage of that."

"What, so I can attend another night class at Fullers Shooting Academy?"

"And there it is," Danny sighed, pulling out of where he'd parked. The two of them didn't say anything to each other, the tension back from the previous night. Instead, she simply sat back in the seat, feet resting on the dashboard the entire two hours it took for them to get to Palm Springs. The whole time she couldn't stop thinking about the fight she'd had with Jack that morning - yet another rehashing of the mistakes they were making before he left - and the feeling of holding a gun in her hand.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" Danny asked again, as they entered the rich, tourist city.

"Not particularly," she mumbled. "I'm mad at you too."

"For wanting you to be safe? It's not like I'm putting a guard on you. I'm asking you to protect yourself. It's more than I can say for _Jack, _who's always ready to fight your fights for you."

"Don't you dare bring my brother into this. You're both equally horrible, using each other against me. Stop trying to compete for your positions in my life. I'm not going to pick between you two."

"You expect me to sit quietly and be your driver so that you can go pick a fight with him, on the night he's supposed to be racing? I'm sorry, Gi, but I'm not that guy."

"No, you're the guy who tries to get me to use a gun."

"I thought we already talked about this," he said, frustrated. "I told you, it was a precautionary measure. I'm not putting a gun in your hand and expecting you to shoot up every person you see. You _know _I wouldn't do that. So what's this really about?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. You think I don't know you? You're rerouting whatever anger you've got into me, and your brother. So why don't you just spit it out so that it stops hurting all three of us."

"Your family wants to _kill _me!" she spat, swallowing before her voice broke. "How do you think I feel about being targeted?"

Danny pulled over into the parking lot of what looked like a small motel. Once the car was off, he turned to her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Gisele, I won't let them hurt you. I'll make sure that doesn't happen, the best I can. You don't have to worry about that, okay? Please, I should've never said anything," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Tell me this isn't what's been bothering you all day and night."

When she didn't say anything, he pulled her into a hug. It was a bit uncomfortable because of the console between them, but it was exactly what she needed.

"I won't let them hunt you down, okay?" he whispered. "Just stop worrying about it."

"Take me to the races," she replied, pulling away from him. Although his reassurances were welcome, she didn't believe a word of them. She'd had a hard time taking him seriously last night – one of the major reasons she'd been more angry than concerned. But his current attempt at making her forget it was what cemented her belief. He hadn't been lying at all.

"Is there anything I can say to talk you out of this?" he said.

"No."

"Then I suggest you go freshen up," he said, pulling out her bag from the car and handing her a room key. She didn't have to ask to know that this is where he stayed when he came up here for races. Danny didn't need the secrecy of Palm Springs like Jack did, but after spending many weeks antagonizing the older O'Conner, this had become a favored destination for him, too. "It's going to be a long night."

* * *

After taking a short nap, and a shower, Gisele found herself being driven to the glamorous street races she'd only ever heard horror stories about. Unlike all the times she'd pictured it in her head, there was no guilty thrill or pleasure accompanying it. She didn't feel any of the temptation or dazzle or desperation for a taste of the forbidden she'd thought she'd feel. Her fear, her worry, and her anger at both her boys had her forgetting all of that.

"There," Danny whispered as he parked in an empty spot. Already there were people rushing around to greet him, popping the hood of his car to see what new toys he'd brought to the playground. Some even hooted when they noticed he'd brought a girl. She ignored them all, her eyes trained on the car he'd pointed to. Gisele had heard a lot about the cars Jack had won, from Nico and himself, but she'd never set her eyes on them. Especially not the car he'd first started out with, the one he'd saved up money for so that their parents wouldn't question the chunk of money going missing from their funds. The car he always raced in.

"I'm not racing tonight," Danny informed the group while keeping his eyes on her. There were upset hollers but he just gave her a goodbye wave. "I can't watch this go down. He shouldn't know I brought you here. You know where to find me later."

Gisele waved a halfhearted goodbye before turning towards the dark blue skyline, a shiny black and white dagger spray painted across one side. She saw the car pull up to the starting line, and that's when she made her way to it. Without a second thought, she yanked open the passenger door and got in.

"What the fuck?" her brother exclaimed. She knew she'd surprised him, not just by his words but also by the murderous look on his face. His eyes glinted dangerously. "Get out."

"No. You're so determined to do this, then you can do it with me as a passenger," she said, putting on her seatbelt.

"Seriously?" he shouted. "You're doing this right now? Are you fucking crazy? Get out of the car, Gisele."

"No!"

"How the hell are you even here? I left the Prius in my garage, and you have no clue where that is."

"Danny drove me."

"I'm going to kill him," he growled, and Gisele noted how this was unlike any other threat Jack had thrown towards the boy. It wasn't the cursory threat he gave whenever Gisele talked about him, or the boisterous threats they used to throw at each other when they were younger. Jack honestly looked like he'd kill him. He slammed his hand on the dashboard, his messy, dark blonde hair quivering from his tightened body. Gisele scoffed.

"If you don't kill us first."

"Gi, I put some serious money in the buy in. Get out. I'm not racing with you in the car."

"Why not? You love to do this," she said, mimicking him and slamming her hand on the dashboard too. The movement startled the interiors, popping open the glove compartment and sending its contents in her lap. Jack swore under his breath and Gisele inhaled sharply as she saw what was in it.

"Why the hell does everyone carry a gun?" she shouted, tossing back the offensive weapon into the compartment and shutting it. She hoped the car would swallow it up and spit it out through the exhaust. Her ears were ringing again. The sixteen year old felt like her technicolor life was slowly starting to blend into darkness every few hours, with every new discovery she made about the people she loved.

"I'll deal with your Spanish Inquisition later, but now you know this isn't clean business. Get out. I'm not driving with you in."

"No, please, do. If you can put your life in danger every time, then surely you should have no problem - "

Her words were cut off as she felt the car door open and hands unbuckling her belt. Before she could protest, she felt the hands drag her out of the car and kick the door shut.

"Are you fucking insane?" Danny spat, pulling her away from Jack's car. Her brother was glaring at both of them, hands clenching on the wheel before he flipped Danny off and then gave Gisele a _we'll talk later _look. Before she could fight and get into the car, Danny had dragged her back into the crowd and the cars had taken off.

"Let go of me!" she shouted, pushing him away. Her head was spinning. But his hold had already loosened the moment she lost a chance of getting into the car. "I thought you left!"

"I own a rearview mirror, as surprising as it may seem. I drove you here because you asked me to, not to let you passenger in a street race."

"Why are you both acting like this? You both race all the time. You know what? This is exactly what I came here for. If you're both so terrified of having me in the car, then maybe you'll realize just how stupid all of this is!" she shouted, waving her hands in the air. She no longer knew what she was referring to. The guns? The races? The feud? The lies? So many lies.

"God, Gisele!" he shouted back. "Would you get off your do gooder horse for five damn seconds and realize that we're not all fucking idiots? Your _brother, _whom you think is some sore loser of a henchman, is trying to protect you. _I _am trying to protect you. We're not speed junkies who throw around steering wheels for fun. We know what we're signing up for because we have control of our own cars. We know every bit and piece of our vehicles, and we know what to do if things go wrong. That can't happen when a part of the car is a living breathing person. Don't you get that? This isn't a savior thing. It's a damn sensible thing."

"Are you seriously trying to logic your way out of this mess?" she demanded. "You and my brother are so much more alike than you think you are."

"You're right, we are," Danny spat. "We both love you, and we're both trying to get you to turn your pride off for a minute. You think he wants you to see him like this? If he wanted anyone at home to see him like this, he'd race with pride in LA. I may not like the guy, but I can tell apart fear from captivity. He doesn't want you to see this side of him, and how about you fucking respect that?"

Gisele refused to say anything to that, too livid beyond words. She couldn't believe a single word coming out of his mouth.

"As for me," he continued. "Maybe you'll start realizing that I'm _not _the bad guy he's convinced you I am. Maybe I want what's best for you. How about you start realizing that there are others around you who want you safe? Now, you can stay here and watch your damn race, but I'm not sticking around to see you try and kill yourself."

He threw the room keys at her, and the only reason she caught them was out of surprise.

"Your stuff's back in the room. And you can hitch a ride with your brother. Call me when you're ready to talk like an adult."

She recoiled, refusing to let the angry and hurt tears sting her eyes. Biting her lip, she watched him walk away as his words hit her. Although she knew in her gut that every part of her argument was right, she felt like a brat. Surely, there were better ways of making her point known. She turned back to see the crowds cheering for the cars that were too far in the distance to see. She still didn't feel any excitement, didn't feel any of the thrill she knew the others felt. But her stomach felt hollow, her body feeling more childlike than she'd have liked to admit. She came to a startling realization that she was just a stubborn, worried, ill informed kid stuck here – and she'd acted exactly like it in front of the one person whom she didn't want seeing her that way.

Leaning back against the brick wall, she took a deep breath and shut her eyes. The past twenty four hours felt like a blur, with the threats, the guns, the fights, the dreams, and now this. Had she really gotten into the car with Jack? Had she really been willing to risk her life to protect him? Perhaps, but not in this situation. Never like this. If she was ever meant to use her life to protect his, it was meant to be as a sacrifice, and not as avoidable collateral damage borne out of a stupid decision.

She pressed the heels of her palms into her cheeks, the weight of everything crushing down on her shoulders. She wanted to turn back and apologize to Danny, to tell him that she knew he was only trying to keep her safe, to go back to their room and fall asleep in his arms. She wanted to turn back time and knock on Jack's window, telling him she was there for him, supporting him through what he loved to do, and wishing him luck and safety. She wanted to be in Lauren's bed, having the sleepover she was supposed to.

"COPS!" someone yelled and her head snapped up, watching startled faces at the back of the crowd. She could hear screams reverberating through the air as some of the lesser privileged crowd scrambled for their cars, knowing they had nothing to bribe the cops with. The warning saturated through the air, and she found herself being pushed in various directions by scrambling racers. She heard engines turning, smelled tires burning. Her chest went cold. Jack thought she was with Danny, and Danny thought she was with Jack. She had no way out of here. She reached into her pocket for her cellphone but the screen remained black, reminding her that she'd never charged it.

"Oh, shit," she whispered, falling back against the wall. She was screwed. Should she run? Where would she run? Whom could she ask for a ride? She knew nobody here.

A car pulled up beside her and she almost screamed. The tinted window rolled down and she smelled smoke, a thick voice demanding for her to get in.

"No, thanks," she shouted over the chaos. "I don't take rides from strangers."

"Gisele O'Conner," the voice said and she leaned down, surprised to hear her full name. The person behind the wheel looked oddly familiar but she couldn't remember where on earth she'd met him before. He didn't look like he was young enough to be a student in her school, or any of her brother's or Danny's friends.

"I don't know you," she reminded him. In the distance, she saw the sirens and heard the wailing. She looked back at the stranger, who'd thrown open the door to her. She could either get arrested in another city, hours away from home, at an illegal street race, risk her chances of a record and getting into an Ivy League. Or she could risk it with this one stranger. Despite her better judgment, she jumped in. The moment her door closed, he turned the wheel and screeched out of the area.

"How do you know me?" she demanded, turning back again and again to see if the cops were on their tail.

"Is there anybody you can call?" he asked instead, throwing the cigarette outside his window.

"I don't have battery."

He tossed his phone into her lap. She immediately dialed Danny's number. He was the only one who'd be far enough from the race to be able to double back with deniability. Plus, she didn't want Jack coming back for her and risk getting arrested.

"What?" Danny demanded, clearly still angry but not enough to ignore an unknown number.

"Danny?" she asked, not bothering to hide the fear in her voice so that he'd know she was being serious.

"Gi?" he asked, his tone immediately changing. "Whose number is this? What's going on?"

"Cops," she said. "Cops showed up."

"What?!" he exclaimed. "Where are you? I'm coming to get you."

"I got a ride from a stranger –"

"You got into a stranger's car? What the hell, Gi –"

"Listen, I had no choice. I'm – I'll come back to the motel."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay," she nodded.

"Hey. I love you. Stay safe, and stay inside, okay?"

"Yeah. Me too."

She pulled the phone away from her ear, ready to turn it off, when she caught sight of the background photo. She felt her fingertips go numb as she recognized it. Without throwing a glance towards the driver, she texted Danny: _Don't pick me up. The guy who gave me a lift is an old family friend who obv recognized me. You can't be seen with me. I'll stay in touch, I promise. Don't reply to this. I'll call you in an hour, from my number. If you wanna text, send it to my number. _

Once it was sent, she deleted it from the phone.

"Do you have a phone charger?" she asked. The guy nodded, pointing to the cables. They'd long outrun the cops, and he was cruising towards the freeway and out of the city. She felt terror in her throat. She knew who he was, but by all means, he was still a stranger. Now that she was out of danger, she started to realize how irrational it was for her to get into the car. He could be completely different from the stories she'd heard. He could be a serial killer.

"Anaheim, right?" he asked, and she nodded slowly.

Plugging her phone in, she waited for it to boot up. Immediately she saw five missed calls from her brother. Not in the mood to talk to him, she texted him to let him know she was safe. He replied instantly, confirming that he got out, as well. Then she patiently waited for Danny to reply. When he did, all he asked was for her to keep in touch and that he'd return to the motel to pick up her things.

"Everything alright?" the driver asked, eyeing her frantic typing.

"Y-Yes," she said, swallowing. "I'm sorry, I just – I know who you are."

"Do you? I thought I was a stranger," he smirked.

"I saw your phone photo."

"Of course."

"So, you know who I am. You know where I live. How come you've never come around before?"

"How much do you know about me? How much have your parents told you?"

"Just that you used to be a friend…family. And your name. Leon."


End file.
